Plant the Seed
by PetiteCafe
Summary: "So I wanted to ask if you want to come to Canada with me for a week." Love's a seed that grows slowly - have Logan and biology professor Leah Hamilton given it a start by running off to the middle of nowhere? Work in progress; post-DOFP. Rated M for general adult content, periodic smut, and language.
1. I'm On My Way (The Proclaimers)

*****FILE ENTRY****

 _Name: Demeter, a.k.a Leah Hamilton_

 _Age: 34_

 _Appearance: Non-visual mutation. Human female, light skin, dark hair, green eyes._

 _Mutation:_

 _Demeter's chief mutation consists, as her alias indicates, of an ability to make most forms of life grow at significantly accelerated rates._

 _Her mutation has the ability to affect plant, animal, bacterial, and viral life, but will "max out" at a certain level once available food sources to fuel the enhanced growth are exhausted. In general, Demeter is able to use her powers on plant life with the most freedom._

 _Demeter can also affect her own body, and as such, possesses a healing factor similar to Wolverine's. However, her ability differs in notable aspects: she must be conscious to effect significant repair, and she must know, in a general sense, what needs to be done. The extent of her ability's operation on a subconscious level seems to be restricted to preventing her from aging, and a small acceleration of her body's natural recovery process._

 _Demeter is very close to Storm, as their abilities complement one another in an altruistic sense. The two women have been responsible for several large-scale efforts at reversing desertification and enhancing third-world countries' farming abilities._

 *****END FILE ENTRY****

* * *

Leah stood staring down into her duffel bag, which had yet to contain any clothes, although she was in theory supposed to be packing. She wore a silly grin, and was having a very hard time focusing on the task at hand.

There were reasons for that.

* * *

" _Leah Hamilton?"_

 _Hank frowns, his brow furrowing. "Yes, I know her. Not well – really only by reputation – but she's a horticulturist. She's done some very interesting work with natural hybridization as a method of increasing disease resistance."_

 _Charles Xavier peers at the sheets of paper in front of him: a cover letter, a resume, and an impressive CV. "Well, she's very qualified to take the open professor's job, but I don't really see why she wants to work here. Is she a mutant?"_

 _Hank sits upright in his chair. "Wait a moment. Leah Hamilton? University of Minnesota?"_

 _Charles glances at the resume again. "Yes. Well, until recently…?"_

" _That's right." Hank taps his fingers on the desk. "She is one of us. She was forced out due to her mutation. Something about research – I did hear about her."_

" _And her mutation is…?"_

 _Hank shrugs. "I'm unsure."_

" _Hmm. Well, that certainly explains why she wants to join us. And a horticulturist would be a nice addition. Would you call her and arrange for her to visit?"_

* * *

 _Leah stands in front of the private plane feeling very small and very unprepared._

 _She clutches the handle of a small rolling suitcase, leather laptop backpack over her shoulder. The plane is sitting on the tarmac all alone; a staircase has been rolled up, and the boarding door is open, but there is no evidence of anyone else there._

 _Just when she is about to assume she is in the wrong place – though the invitation from Dr. McCoy had been very detailed – a blue figure emerges from the boarding door. Leah relaxes, smiling and waving._

" _Doctor McCoy!"_

 _He descends the stairs and extends a large hand for Leah to shake. "Doctor Hamilton. Pleasure to see you again – that conference in Long Beach, wasn't it?"_

" _Yes, that was it. Please, call me Leah." She grins. "The "doctor" is still a little newly-minted for comfort."_

 _Hank grabs her suitcase and starts heading back up the stairs. "Then please call me Hank. Shall we?"_

 _She is startled to find that she isn't alone in the cabin. Hank stows her suitcase and goes forward into the cockpit, while Leah regards the bald man sitting comfortably in one of the plush leather seats._

 _Every crease of his suit is immaculate; every detail from tie pin to cufflinks in place. He regards her with bright-eyed curiosity. "Doctor Hamilton, I presume?"_

" _Yes. Professor Xavier?" She crosses the cabin to shake his hand. "A pleasure. I wasn't expecting you to meet me here…"_

" _I enjoy surprises."_

 _Leah is startled into laughing. She takes the seat across from the professor, buckling up as she feels the engines of the plane engage._

" _So, Doctor Hamilton –"_

" _Leah, please."_

" _Leah. Tell me about yourself."_

That had been six months ago.


	2. The Right Place Now (Eddi Reader)

_Leah grins, plunging her hands into the next pot of dirt. She is preparing for one of her classes, where her students are crossbreeding two different colors of marigolds in order to illustrate Mendel's principles. An experiment that might have taken several weeks normally is a day's project for her class – with some assistance._

 _Two weeks after her visit to Westchester, she said goodbye to Minnesota and moved halfway across the country into an exclusive private mansion…for people like her._

 _The bitter taste in her mouth after the university had forced her out –_ falsifying results, my ass _\- has been purged quickly. She has been plunged into the mansion's rambunctious family atmosphere, teaching classes in biology and horticulture, and taking over the greenhouses._

 _And in her spare time…_

"How do you feel about having two different jobs?"

 _She is learning how to be an X-Man._

 _She even has a new name: Demeter, Greek goddess of agriculture and the harvest._

 _She is in the best shape of her life, thanks to daily training sessions and a rigorous diet._

 _Hank has trained her in how to fly a jet._

 _Her powers of growth are under her complete control, and more developed than ever. She is going on missions – admittedly, usually as the one flying the jet and guarding it, but still._

 _She smiles contentedly as the leaves of the marigold began to sprout from the pot._

That had been four months ago.

* * *

 _She is coming into the kitchen with a large tomato pot in her arms, determined to try her idea – if she soaks the soil with balsamic and then accelerates the plant growth, shouldn't she get natural balsamic-infused tomatoes? - and nearly collides with him._

 _His hands shoot out to steady her, catching the plant at the same time. "Whoa! Slow down there."_

" _Sorry!" She laughs. "I was off somewhere else." She shifts the pot to one arm and sticks out a hand. "I'm Leah Hamilton, the new professor. I don't think I've seen you before."_

 _He slowly takes the offered hand. "I'm Logan."_

That had also been four months ago.

* * *

" _This is very interesting." Hank reviews the data tables he has compiled, Leah leaning over his shoulder in fascination. Logan is buttoning up his shirt, looking bored._

" _Leah, you actually can heal faster than Logan can, but you have to exercise much more conscious control. It's an intriguing trade off."_

" _Maybe it's a limits thing," Leah offers. "Logan's body naturally sets some sort of threshold for how quickly he can heal, no matter what. Conscious control allows me to override that limit, but that's why I get the effects like the extreme hunger."_

" _Hmmm." Hank chews his lip._

"Y _ou guys done with me?" Logan has finished dressing. Hank waves a hand._

" _Yes, thank you Logan, I think we have enough."_

 _As he turns to leave, Leah is reaching for a clipboard on one of the other desks. Her attention is caught as he strides through the door – and the thought comes out of nowhere._

Whoa. Nice ass.

That had been three months ago.


	3. Closer to You (The Wallflowers)

" _Hey, you seen Hank?"_

 _Leah looks up from her computer, seeing Logan hovering in her office doorway. She shrugs. "He's been gone for a few days, I think he's at a conference. Why?"_

" _Nothing big." He echoes her shrug. "Just figured you'd know."_

 _Leah raises her eyebrows. "Oh?"_

" _Well…uh…"_

 _She works out where he was going, and shakes her head. "It's not like that."_

" _No?"_

 _Her answer seems very important all of a sudden. "No."_

That had been two months ago.

* * *

" _Where you going?"_

 _She turns from contemplating the garage pegboard with all the keys on it, and looks over at Logan, who is half-inside the hood of one of the classic cars. "D.C. I have a meeting with the Department of Agriculture on some projects they're wanting help with. Crop yields in California, some disease issues in Georgia, that kind of thing."_

 _"You're driving to D.C.?"_

 _"No, just to the airport for the small plane."_

 _He straightens and wipes his hands on a rag, and throws a shirt on. "I'll take you."_

 _She notes the not-a-question. "It's fine, I'll just put the car in the ramp for the day. I'll be back tonight."_

" _I'll drive you." He reaches over her shoulder and grabs the keys to the convertible. "You ready? Let's go."_

 _Leah knows when she has lost. "Okay, but this means you're coming to get me tonight, too."_

" _Fine."_

That had been a month ago.

* * *

 _She's in the gym and zoned out to her headphones. She doesn't see Logan till he's standing next to her bench.  
_

 _She presses one last time to finish her set, and racks the weight. She sits up, pausing the music and taking out her earbuds._

 _He nods at the bar. "Bet you can do more."_

 _Leah bristles. "I just went up five pounds today."_

 _He steps over to the weight rack and pulls off two more five-pound plates. "Good. Do some more."_

 _He loads her bar up before she can think of how to protest, and stands behind her head. "I'll spot you. Pick it up. Set of five."_

 _Someday, she thinks she'll actually win a battle of wills against him, but it's apparently not today._

 _She lies back down and sets her hands on the bar, pulling her core in to press her lower back flat into the bench and pulling her shoulders back. He nods approval._

 _And she does the fucking set._

 _He helps her rack the weight and then loads another five pounds on the bar. She tells him to fuck off. He grabs her hands and puts them on the bar and tells her to pick up the damn weight._

 _His hands are warm. Like really warm._

 _She knocks out the set and then notices that his eyes are fixed a bit lower on her chest than they should be, strictly speaking, if he's concerned about her form. And she's really tempted to do squats next.  
_

That had been two weeks ago.

* * *

 _It's not a date._

 _He catches up to her as she's walking to the greenhouses, and casually mentions that he's planning on going into town that night, and asks if she needs anything._

 _And when she pauses for a moment, thinking - and he adds that she could go with him, if she wants - he's not asking her on a date._

 _And later that night, as she regards the motorcycle like it's going to bite her, it's not a date.  
_

" _Come on. Just into town and back."_

 _Leah swallows hard. "Remember, I've never been on one of these things before…"_

 _She carefully gets on behind Logan, grasping the small metal rail at the back of the seat. He shakes his head. "Uh-uh. Arms around me. You'll throw off the balance if you hold on like that."_

 _Great. Well, here goes._

 _She slips her arms around him. It's like hugging a brick wall, and she likes it._

 _He kicks the motorcycle into gear and roars out of the driveway. Leah shrieks._

 _It's definitely not a date. Especially when they wind up at the tiny ice cream place, only a few days from closing down for the fall, and he won't let her pay._

 _It's absolutely not a date. Especially when he takes her to his favorite bar, and they sit outside for a few drinks and watch the sun set, and he smokes, and she winds up wearing his jacket that smells like musk and cigars as the temperature drops._

 _It's_ _really not a date. Especially when he takes the long way home along the river, and cruises slowly so that they can enjoy the moonlit view._

 _And it's for sure not a date when she gets off the motorcycle and stands there looking at him, and their eyes meet, and their fingers brush as she hands him back his jacket, and neither of them pull away._

 _She likes that, too._

That had been a week ago.


	4. What Would Happen (Meredith Brooks)

_The light is on telling him that the Danger Room is occupied, but he isn't bothered. Training with someone else will suit him just fine._

 _He walks in and is surprised to find Demeter mopping off her face with a towel. "Leah?"_

" _Hey, Logan," she pants. "I'm just finishing up. All yours."_

" _Don't let me kick you out."_

" _You're not." She grins. "I was done. An hour of Parkour."_

 _Hence why the Danger Room is crowded with obstacles. "Just Parkour?"_

 _She shrugs. "I generally prefer to work alone. What I can do…it's not terribly useful in any sort of dangerous situation. So I keep in shape, but that's about it."_

" _That why you run support on missions?"_

" _Exactly."_

" _Sure." He pauses. "You wanna spar?"_

 _She blinks. "Excuse me?"_

 _"Just Parkour ain't gonna keep you sharp."_

 _She is intrigued by the idea. "It might be interesting to see if I can recover fast enough against you."_

" _Exactly. Be nice to fight someone I don't have to worry as much about hurting."_

" _Well…all right. Let's give it a shot."_

 _From the equipment stash, she pulls a set each of the armored leg guards and gauntlets that will offer some protection against his adamantium-weighted limbs. Meanwhile, he presses a few keys on the room's control pad, and the lights dim noticeably. Demeter walks to the center of the room and sets herself._

 _Wolverine doesn't wait long before he attacks. He hasn't gone barehanded against anyone in some time; this is going to be fun._

 _Demeter neatly sidesteps his first jump, but he rolls from the landing and quickly recovers. He fixes back on her and sees that her eyes are glowing green as her power manifests._

 _He launches again, but she is already twisting out of the way, bringing her gauntleted forearms up in guard to brush aside his blow. The power behind it staggers her, even through the armor, but her back foot is solidly planted and she only spins a quarter-turn._

 _Her arms bruise beneath the guards. She quickly takes care of it._

 _He snarls._

 _She blocks his kick on her leg guard – small fracture, repaired - ducking under his swing, and jabs up at his side. He takes the punch, plants himself, and takes the punch to his other side. She spins away; then before he can react, reverses direction, bounces off one of the boulder obstacles, and leaps to slam both feet into his stomach. He staggers back._

 _The next exchange is a flurry of blows, with Demeter on the defensive. She has expected this, and gives ground slowly, using the obstacles in the room to deflect some of the power of his blows. She thinks she is slightly faster than he is, and uses this to her advantage, having to take very few hits._

 _She has put some distance between them. Wolverine closes back in, at the last second dropping to his hands for a leg sweep. She allows him to take her down, but catches herself on her hands and flips over his head; then, while he is still down on the ground, leaps onto his shoulders and jabs down with both elbows into his shoulder joints._

 _He roars at the blow, and surges to his feet. Demeter holds on, but he does something she considered only a very slight possibility, and hasn't prepped for: he drops onto his knees and then rolls backwards before she can let go, trapping her with his body. She responds by squeezing with her thighs to try and cut his air, but he flips back over, grabs her shoulders, and flings her off him. She flies ten feet and crashes into the wall._

 _Demeter gets to her feet. She repairs her broken ribs and torn muscles – again - and is uncomfortably aware of her body beginning to demand food to fuel the work._

 _She bounds up, and he chases her across the obstacles. She gets up to speed and leads him on a good run, leaping like a gazelle across the boulders and boxes, but he forces her to jump back to the floor with a lunge, catching her foot in midair._

 _He tries to swing her around by the foot into one of the boxes, but she grabs the edge, stopping his momentum. She kicks backwards with her free leg and smashes her foot into his face. With a snarl, he drops her leg, and she vaults back up onto the box while his nose is still healing._

 _She takes a running leap, jumps off the next boulder, and lands back on his shoulders, trying to torque his upper body and make him lose his balance. He is planted solidly though, and so she punches down again, misses, and he grabs her arm, pulling her off his shoulders. She slams into the floor, and he drags her back to her feet, spinning her up against the wall. And stops._

 _She is panting for breath, sweat running down her face again. He is pressed right up against her. She takes a deep breath, grins, and manages one final healing. She's lost track of how many times she's healed her ribs; they are going to itch for days._

" _Okay," she breathes. "I'm starving."_

 _Logan grins uncharacteristically. "You giving up?"_

" _Yes," she retorts. "I don't have enough in me to keep going. So let's go get something to eat."_

 _He lets her arm go almost reluctantly, stepping back. "This was…good."_

" _Yeah." She smiles. "Except I think I smell like a locker room, all by myself."_

" _Actually, you smell great."_

 _She freezes. "What?"_

 _Logan looks rattled, like he has said something he didn't intend. "Uh…well. You smell great."_

 _There's definitely been some tension between the two of them, especially after that completely-not-a-date on Friday_ _. She looks at him, and sucks in a breath, and feels her heart speed up a little bit._

 _He is looking at her too, and takes a couple of steps back in her direction. "You can't be serious," she manages, trying to joke. He is really close now and it feels like all of the oxygen has left the room. "I'm dripping sweat."_

 _They make eye contact. Leah swallows, half-smiles._

 _His hands experimentally touch her waist and draw her into him. Hers drift to rest on his forearms. "You're right. I should make sure." Slowly, he bends his head to her neck and breathes in. "Yeah," he murmurs, lips brushing her skin. "You smell…perfect."_

 _Her toes curl. She can feel his arousal even through both their suits._

 _He raises his head and looks at her. Their mouths are barely apart; his head starts to angle…_

 _She feels the brush of his lips against hers, and her toes curl even more and there's a shock that starts from where their mouths touched and shoots straight through her stomach and down to her feet.  
_

 _And then there's a beep that indicates the door's about to open._

 _She jerks back from him before someone can walk in on them. "Um...should we..."_

 _He steps back too, and scrubs his face with his hands. "Yeah. Yeah. Want to go have lunch?"_

That had been Monday.


	5. Stop Desire (Tegan and Sara)

_Midnight._

 _The mansion is quiet. She pads on stocking feet down the hall and into the staff kitchen, small and secondary off of the main monstrosity, and mainly reserved for the fridge full of alcohol._

 _She is surprised that she isn't alone._

 _He's leaning against the fridge, full tumbler of scotch in one hand and an unlit cigar in the other. "Evening," he rumbles._

 _She's having a hard time not drooling at the sight of his body: bare muscled arms, chest thinly concealed by the undershirt he's wearing. "Logan. Couldn't sleep?"_

 _He gestures with the glass. "Nightcap. You?"_

" _Same. Grading papers." She leans toward the fridge, and he moves out of the way, allowing her to pull out the bottle of white wine that is the object of her quest. She fills a glass and mirrors his position, cocking a hip against the counter._

 _The kiss - was it a kiss? Their lips did touch, so it probably counts - in the Danger Room was yesterday. They had a nice lunch afterwards. They talked about several things, none of which were what had happened. And then she had a class to teach, and they went their separate ways._

 _She's suddenly very conscious of her thin camisole and yoga pants. Logan is making no secret of the direction of his stare; the cardigan she had thrown on in a halfhearted nod to modesty might as well be back in her room._

" _So listen," he says. He sets his cigar down on the counter. "About yesterday. Didn't see you today to talk more."_

 _"Yeah...busy day..." She's trembling, just a little._

 _He takes a step forward. "Was it okay?"  
_

 _"Was what okay?"_

 _"Yesterday."_

 _Screw it. She wants more and why should she be ashamed? "No. But only because we had to stop."  
_

 _An expression of astonished delight crosses his face and he takes another step. She lifts her face and closes her eyes.  
_

 _Their lips touch carefully, tentatively – once, twice. And then with a sigh and a groan his mouth opens and there's nothing careful about it, it's_ devouring _, hungry, and he's using his free hand to pull her against him, spin them both around, and push her back against the kitchen island. He tastes so fucking good and her arms are around his neck and she's grabbing his hair and practically climbing him, and between the two of them she's on her back on the island and he's following her down, bracing his legs back and in the process his hips press against her and it's clear that neither of them have any doubts at all about what they want and this is going to happen right here and right now on this fucking countertop…_

 _She claws at the hem of his undershirt and hauls it off over his head, breaking their kiss for a split second. His mouth fastens back onto hers and he grabs one of her wrists and pins it, the action accompanied by a clatter, and a second later the sharp smell of scotch fills the air and there's wet spreading into her hair – she realizes what happened, he must have set his glass down and then knocked it over, but she absolutely doesn't give two shits, doesn't even know where the hell her wine went, he's pulled her cardigan off one shoulder and his hand's got her breast, pushing it up and lips tracing the swell above her camisole, she's trying to be quiet considering they're_ in the damned kitchen _but he isn't making it easy…_

 _He shoves the camisole up, baring her stomach, and drags his fingers down to catch in her yoga pants, pulling them down over the curve of one hip. Sharp teeth follow, grazing skin; she hears him sniff, then growl approvingly._

 _She sits up and grabs his belt, beginning to unbuckle it and then going for his jeans. Their rooms aren't that far away but fuck it. His eyes immediately lock onto her face and his hand plunges into her hair, bringing her in for another kiss…_

 _A glass crashes to the ground, shattering. They freeze._

 _Hank is standing in the doorway, in – of course – striped pajamas and terrycloth robe. She is mildly surprised he isn't wearing a literal nightcap. The glass he'd presumably been carrying is broken at his feet – the source of the shattering sound._

 _Neither of them even tries to say anything, considering that Logan's hand is still cupping her breast and hers are frozen on his zipper. Hank collects his dignity and attempts to smile. "Good evening. I was coming for a snack – but perhaps you'd like a few minutes?"_

 _Logan clears his throat. "Uh…yeah. Thanks."_

 _Hank turns and exits gracefully. "I'll be back in five," he calls over his shoulder._

 _Leah takes stock. Her cardigan is half off, as are her pants; her camisole is pushed up to just underneath her breasts. Her hair is dripping with scotch. Logan's not wearing a shirt – oh, there it is, also in the puddle of scotch - and his belt is open, along with the top button on his pants. The scotch tumbler is, miraculously, unharmed, although her wine glass is broken on the floor (so that's what happened to it)._

 _She can't help it – she starts laughing._

That had been Tuesday.


	6. I Can't Hold Back (Survivor)

_She's strapping on her gloves as she walks down the hall, heading for the elevator that will take her to the combat levels. The mission should be easy, but based on the team, someone's not taking any chances._

 _And speaking of chances…_

 _Wolverine is already waiting for the elevator, fully suited up._

 _She steps up to his side and can't think of anything to say that won't make her sound like she's inanely babbling. A week ago she would have laughed at the thought of how hyper-aware she is of him now._

 _The elevator dings and the door opens. They step in._

 _It's about a minute's ride into the lower levels. They spend the first 15 seconds in silence._

" _Logan, I…"_

" _Leah, I…"_

 _They laugh nervously._

" _This probably isn't the time to talk," she says softly. "But we really should."_

" _Yeah."_

 _He's always better with action than words, so a part of her isn't surprised when he steps forward and takes her face in his hands, and kisses her fiercely._

 _He's a really good kisser. She's been wanting more for the last 12 hours._

 _He backs her against the wall (what is it with him and shoving her against things?) and the elevator's going to open any second, and knowing their luck it's going to be Beast on the other side, that poor guy…_

 _His hands slide down to her waist and draw her tight against him, wrapping her fully in his arms. Hers drift around his neck._

 _She opens her eyes while he's still kissing her, looks over at the button panel, and jabs the close-door button. Her eyes close again and she falls back into the kiss, she knows she can only do this for a few seconds before someone else is calling the elevator, they have to leave on a mission after all, but she wants every moment until that point…_

 _He apparently comes to the same realization, slowly releasing her mouth but keeping a tight hold on her. He looks down, sees her holding the button, and laughs shakily, leaning his forehead against hers._

" _Okay," she breathes. She's not entirely sure what she's saying okay to._

" _Okay," he answers. His gloved hand cups her jaw again, and then he releases her. She takes a deep breath, runs a hand over her hair, and lets go of the elevator button._

* * *

 _Demeter straps herself into the cockpit of the jet next to Beast. She's piloting this mission and will be staying and guarding the jet while the rest of them go in. Wolverine, Cyclops, Storm, Rogue, and Iceman are in the back of the jet: the heavy-combat team._

 _She takes them up nice and smooth, and levels off at cruising altitude, trying not to look at Beast beside her. She took care of the whisker burn on her cheeks and chin before they got to the hangar, but she also probably smells like Wolverine, and she can't get rid of that.  
_

 _She isn't sure she wants to._

 _The flight is only an hour or so. She lands gently and opens up the ramp; Beast starts unbuckling his seat belts. She can't stop herself from turning around, watching them leaving the jet, and she catches Wolverine's eye. He pauses at the top of the ramp; her heart speeds up. He gives her a half smile and descends._

 _Beast looks over at her knowingly. Demeter helplessly shrugs._

* * *

 _Three hours later they are airborne again. Everyone is tired, but the mission went well and they have the intelligence to continue monitoring the Brotherhood's attempts to obtain weapons-grade plutonium._

 _She lands them back at the mansion, underneath the basketball court. She begins the power-down cycle and the post-flight checks as everyone unbuckles and begins disembarking. Hank looks over at her and she shakes her head._

" _I got this, Hank – go ahead."_

 _She thinks she's getting a few moments alone. What she doesn't see is that Logan is lingering in the back – and that Hank claps him on the shoulder and leaves the plane._

" _Debriefing in an hour!" she hears Scott holler. She sighs. Barely enough time to finish the post-flight and grab a quick shower._

 _Logan slides into the copilot's seat. She jumps._

" _Sorry."_

" _It's OK." She flips a few switches, then abandons the pretense. "So about this…thing…"_

" _Yeah."_

 _She doesn't know where to go with it. Doesn't even know where to start. So she settles for the simple approach._

 _At the touch of her lips on his, he hauls her out of her seat and onto his lap. Well, halfway anyway – there isn't a lot of room in the pilot seats and so she's half on his lap and half balancing on the control panel, and praying she isn't sitting on anything that's going to start the jet back up…_

" _Ahem."_

 _Shit._

 _Hank is standing atop the ramp. He smiles. "I thought you might like to know that Scott has changed his mind and has asked to debrief immediately once you have shut down the jet. He was originally going to come back up here, but I offered to tell you."_

" _Thanks, Hank," Leah manages. "We'll be there in a sec."_

 _Hank leaves, whistling._

 _Leah sighs and leans her forehead against Logan's. "I'm beginning to wonder if Hank has secret voyeuristic tendencies."_

 _He chuckles. "After debriefing. We'll talk then. Okay?"_

" _Okay…fuck. No. I have a conference call with the Department of Agriculture."_

" _After that, then. I'll come to your office."_

" _Okay."_

That had been Wednesday.

* * *

 _He is preceded by the scent of tobacco and leather. As she smells it, Leah stretches, turning away from her desk. "Hey."_

 _He gestures at the computer and phone in front of her. "You done?"_

" _Yes. All finished. Talk now?"_

" _Yeah." His eyes glitter. "Can I go first?"_

" _Sure."_

 _He exhales sharply. "Okay. I'm not good at subtle, so here it is, plain: I want you. Bad. I know you want me, too – I can smell it every time I'm close to you now. That about cover it?"_

 _She nods._

" _So, if I don't fuck you soon, I'm going to explode, and I think you're about the same. So I wanted to ask if you want to come to Canada with me for a week, and have a shitload of sex, and see if this is something that will get out of our systems, or whether it's…well, you know."_

 _Leah stares at him, her mouth slightly open. "Also," he adds, "I'm pretty sure we're going to make a lot of noise and probably break things the first couple of times, and I'd rather do that without a houseful of nosy kids around."_

 _Leah gulps. Gulps again. Finds her voice. "You've got somewhere in mind?"_

" _Cabin." His shoulders are starting to relax. "Middle of nowhere. I've had it awhile. Worked on it a lot."_

 _Leah nods slowly. "Okay. When do we leave?"_

" _That's a yes?"_

 _She very nearly rolls her eyes at him. "Yes, it's a yes. Of course it's a yes. How do you want to do this? You want to ask the Professor together, or separately?"_

" _I, uh…hadn't thought that far. Just that we needed to do something besides having people keep walking in on us."_

 _Leah thinks for a moment. "I'll ask him for both of us."_

" _How do you figure?"_

 _She laughs. "I'll ask, but I'll tell him the truth, and he'll be so speechless he won't care, he'll just want me to leave."_

" _Day after tomorrow, then."_

That had been Wednesday night.


	7. First Time (Lifehouse)

On Thursday morning, it had gone exactly as Leah thought it would. The minute she told Charles that she and Logan wanted a week off to "blow off some steam. Together," the Professor had agreed with such speed that she assumed he had to have gotten a couple of glimpses of her recent memories leaking through, and was just fine with not seeing or thinking about any more than that…

* * *

" _That should do it." Hank taps the small needle mark on Leah's hip, and watches it heal. "The implant's in, and fully charged up. It's good for five years."_

" _Thanks Hank." Leah hops off the table and straightens her pants. "Appreciate you doing this on such short notice."_

" _I suspect I know why," he teases._

 _Leah blushes. "Look…well…I'm sorry that you kept walking in on…things…but we're going to take care of it. That's why I was in such a hurry, because we're leaving in the morning."_

" _Oh?"_

" _Canada."_

" _Ah, yes…I remember, Logan has a cabin there. How long will you be gone?"_

" _Over a week. The drive is seven hours, so it's a day there, and a day back. So nine days. We wanted a full week to be there…"_

" _That sounds wise." He smiles. "Enjoy yourself, my friend."_

* * *

That had been Thursday night. And now it was Friday morning.

She shook herself, staring back down at her duffel bag. They were leaving in an hour and she really needed to finish packing.

 _Do I really need clothes?_

Okay, nice underwear, at least – some of the little lace and satin scraps, not that she thought Logan was going to need a whole lot of additional inspiration.

Socks.

Toiletries.

Jeans? Sure, they might get tired of fucking each other senseless and want to go for a walk or something.

Yoga pants. Leggings.

Flannel and chambray shirts. Sweaters – October in Canada, probably cold.

Pajamas? Logan was a furnace, she knew that already. She tossed in a couple of her sexier nighties, and a button-up collared flannel nightshirt.

Boots, coat, scarf, hat, mittens.

Anything else?

Leah surveyed her suite, her eyes lighting on the pile of games on her bookshelf. The normal reasoning that their bodies would eventually require them to do something else besides have sex didn't exactly apply, between their two healing factors. _And I don't really have a problem with the idea that we might not get out of bed for a week…_

She shook her head, and grabbed a deck of cards.

* * *

Logan had pulled up in one of the mansion's pickup trucks and was waiting out front when Leah exited, duffel bag in hand and backpack over her shoulder. The weather was cool and crisp: a beautiful fall day, perfect for the drive north. Over his shoulder she saw Scott sitting on the ground next to his motorcycle, jaw hanging open and a wrench held loosely in his hand. She was willing to bet his eyes, behind his visor, were popping out of his head, and stifled a giggle.

Logan took her duffel, tossing it in the back of the truck next to several bags of groceries, and covered all of it with a tarp. "Got enough for the week," he said. "It's far enough out, don't want to need to leave till we have to."

"Sounds good." Leah stowed her backpack on the passenger side. When she turned, Logan was standing next to her.

He dropped his voice low. "Didn't know…do we need to hit a drugstore on the way out of town?"

"Nope." Leah tapped her hip. "All set. One of Hank's implants. And…well…I don't think anything else is a concern?"

He smiled, shook his head. "Nope."

"Right then."

He was really close to her, almost pinning her against the cab of the truck, and she could feel the heat from his body, even through the old jeans and flannel shirt he was wearing.

Slowly, his head tilted, and their lips met, and she grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling the light flick of his tongue against hers as his arm went around her waist. They hadn't done much along these lines since they'd decided to leave - and it was actually rather nice reinforcement that oh yes, the simmering heat between the two of them hadn't gone _anywhere..._

The kiss was over far too soon and she sank back down off her tiptoes as their mouths parted. He smiled. "There's the one to last the drive, huh?"

She smiled back. "Drive fast."

He blew out a breath. "Yeah."

Before they could get any more distracted, she turned and climbed up into the passenger seat, Logan heading around to the other side and swinging up behind the wheel. She couldn't resist a wave at Scott as she hopped in, who had probably gotten quite an eyeful and whose jaw fell open even more.

"See you in a week, Cyke!"


	8. Hungry Eyes (Eric Carmen)

Seven hours later, Leah peered around her inquisitively as Logan swung the truck off the main road and onto a dirt path leading – from all appearances – straight into the woods.

"This is why I wanted to get here before sunset," he said. "Even when you know how, it's hard to find. Just the way I wanted it."

"How did you get electricity out here? And heat? Running water?"

He grinned. "Combo of solar and geothermal for power – just enough for the plumbing pumps and a fridge. The water's well water. Tapped the natural hot spring for hot water. And for heat, I insulated the shit out of the place, and put in two fireplaces, plus the stove."

"Wow."

They drove through the woods for close to another half hour before the trees slowly began to thin. And then all of a sudden, they were there.

Logan pulled the truck up to the side of the cabin, half hidden by trees. It was small at first glance, but deceptively deep, and she thought it had at least a loft second level. He turned the truck off.

"Well…we're here."

Leah swallowed. "How far are we from anyone else?"

"Near as I can tell…there's some kind of retreat about an hour from here, once you make it back out to the main road. Might be a couple cabins like this hidden, but I never smelled anyone else even close. Town's an hour too."

She took a deep breath. "Good. Then I don't have to worry about screaming."

She could tell he had deliberately been trying not to think about the whole point of this trip during the drive. His body tensed, and his eyes glittered. "No," he said softly, "you don't. And neither do I. So let's hurry up and get this damn truck unloaded."

The cabin was dark, but there were lanterns hanging everywhere, and candles in one of the bags of groceries. While Logan unpacked in the kitchen and started a fire in the stove, Leah wandered the cabin lighting the candles.

The front door opened to the small but fully-equipped kitchen, complete with the large wood stove and modern refrigerator. Next came the living room, furnished with heavy woods and wool fabrics in dark reds, browns, and greens. The main fireplace rose majestic up half of one wall, the thick bricks obviously laid by hand. As she explored, Logan knelt on the slate hearth, having finished in the kitchen, and was starting to stack tinder and logs for a second fire.

A small room off the living room proved to be a bathroom, and against the far wall were the stairs to the bedroom loft. Leah grabbed both bags and headed up.

She grinned in delight once she reached the top and had lit the candles. A huge bed, again in heavy, dark wood; deep mattress too. The bed wasn't made, but she followed a hunch and opened the chest at the foot, and sure enough found sheets and blankets.

A small second fireplace shared the chimney with the main, and Leah got a fire going once she'd finished making the bed. As she lit the paper tinder, she heard Logan's footsteps on the stairs. He stood at the top and surveyed her work.

"Looks good," he said. "Sorry I didn't make it up here first to have it all ready. Long drive."

Leah shrugged and straightened. "I think we did just fine."

They stood looking at each other for a moment, until Leah broke the tension by starting to laugh. Logan frowned, and then started laughing himself.

"I thought we'd just kind of jump on each other and that that'd take care of gettin' things started, but…" He laughed again. "Feels a little more awkward than it did in my head."

Leah smiled, and stretched. "You know what I could really go for?"

"What's that?"

" _Coffee."_


	9. The Right Kind of Wrong (Leann Rimes)

The two fireplaces plus the stove were, as promised, heating up the interior of the cabin nicely. Logan hadn't skimped on the groceries – in spite of the straight-out-of-a-Western no-frills stove-top percolator, the coffee itself was excellent, and Leah sipped hers gratefully.

"Gotta admit, that hits the spot after that drive," Logan commented, draining half of his mug in one swig.

He leaned back against the counter, absently shifting his hips to a more comfortable position. Leah, in mid-sip, stopped dead as she watched the muscles move beneath the tight denim. And Logan caught her looking.

Leah didn't break the eye contact. Her hand shook slightly as she put her mug down, very carefully.

He pushed her up against the counter, lips coming down over hers hot and hard. She threw her arms around his neck and hauled herself up against him, as much as she could with how tightly he was pressing against her. Instantly he figured out what she wanted, and his hands curved around her backside, helping her get high enough up to wrap her legs around him.

His tongue slipped into her mouth and she moaned, digging her hands into his thick hair. Moaning again, as he put her down, but it was only to free his hands to rip her shirt open – quite literally, sending buttons flying – and pull it off of her.

He hauled her up again and strode for the stairs, carrying her up and depositing her in the loft bedroom.

"Do we need to – candles –" she got out before he was kissing her again. He made a sound of wordless negation as his hands moved – over her back, sides, stomach, digging into her hair, moving down and unfastening her bra. A very small part of her mind marveled at his restraint in not just shredding the thing, but then it was far more interesting to work on unbuttoning his shirt and baring his chest to her touch, feeling the rasp of hair as she pulled it off and yanked his undershirt over his head.

He grabbed her back to him, hands moving again as if he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to touch, scooping her up against him to toss her down on the bed. Leah bounced, and then felt hands on her waist as Logan pulled her to the edge of the bed. He knelt, unbuttoning her jeans, and with one motion pulled them, her panties, and her socks off.

Leah swallowed hard as he stood up to look at her. He wasn't smiling, but his mouth was tight, and his eyes were hot. She started to scoot up on the bed, but he shook his head. "No…stay there."

"There" had her hanging halfway off the mattress, but she figured out what he was doing as he knelt again between her legs and placed one forearm firmly across her hips. "Don't move, Leah."

It was fingertips at first, surprisingly gentle, as he explored her carefully. Then thumbs, spreading the damp skin apart, revealing her clit swollen like a ripe strawberry. Then knuckles, crooked in a V, massaging the skin on either side and no, she hadn't known that was a thing, but it felt amazing and even better when his tongue touched her, circling her clit while his fingers continued their massage and oh yeah, he had another hand and that one was guiding her leg over his shoulder to tilt her hips up more for him and then it was back between her legs, slipping a finger – no, two – inside her, and that was it, that was all she needed…

She actually felt him smile, the smug bastard, as she came. He eased up but didn't stop touching her until the climax had fully ended, drawing it out longer until she was really done, her hands fisting in the blanket.

He slowly withdrew his hands and crawled up beside her. Leah rolled onto her side, scooting up to get fully on the bed, and reached for his belt. "My turn."

She wanted to tease him – stroke him slowly and take him in her mouth first - but the minute she got his pants off she took one look and realized _that_ wasn't going to happen this time. Instead, he pounced, and his mouth fastened on hers as he rolled her over and settled between her legs, and with one smooth thrust he was inside her, groaning with relief. She gasped as he slid in, and his eyes flew open, and he stopped instantly.

She realized that he probably thought he'd hurt her, and shook her head, tilting her hips up against him. "You're okay...it's just been awhile..."

He relaxed, and smiled, and started moving again, slow and easy, giving her a few moments to get used to him, and the overstretched feeling went away really quickly and was replaced by rippling pleasure that built with every stroke. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in deeper and caressed the muscles of his arms, propped on either side of her head, and he dropped onto his elbows to kiss her again, moving faster, and then - _holy fuck he's strong -_ smoothly slid an arm under her hips and reared back, staying inside her and settling onto his knees and heels. She pulled herself up with her arms around his neck and then he was holding her with one arm, pushing into her even deeper while his free hand delved between them and found her clit again, and shit, she'd been pretty sure it'd be good between them but she hadn't been ready for _this_ good, and she moaned his name as the second climax hit her hard and fast. He lowered her back down to the mattress and thrust sure and deep, and a few seconds later she felt him shudder, and groan into her mouth, and go still.

After a moment he rolled off of her onto his side. "Shit."

Leah smiled, letting her head fall back. She shifted over onto her side and grinned at him. "Right back at you."

He reached out, and stroked a hesitant hand down over the curve of her hip. Tenderness didn't come naturally for him, and it was amusing – and touching – to see him try. "Goddamn."

Leah laughed, as much as she could while still catching her breath. "Yeah. I think that about covers it."

They lay in silence for a few moments, looking at each other. _Oh my god. A week of this is going to totally ruin me._ But she was really having trouble thinking that that was a problem.

Once she had her breath back, Leah stretched to look at her watch, the one thing she was still wearing. "It's almost seven…should we maybe do something about food? I might be getting hungry."

Logan rolled over, swinging his legs off the bed and reaching for clothes. "Yeah. Let's take a break before round two."

She smiled.

* * *

"Scott? Have you seen Leah? I was looking for her and Ororo is teaching her class."

He turned, smiling at Jean. "Yeah, I saw her earlier. She'll be back in a week or so."

"A week? What are you talking about?"

"She left for Canada this morning."

Jean froze. "Logan was going to Canada this morning. For a week."

Scott also froze. _Well isn't this awkward._ "Um, yeah."

"Scott? What aren't you telling me?"

He sighed. "Look, I guess something happened and all of a sudden they…" He gestured randomly. "Well, they took a week off to…deal with it."

Jean's face was clenching. She had no trouble reading between the lines that Scott was desperately trying to draw, and with an effort, she smoothed her features. She had no right to be irritated but… _dammit._

"What'd you need Leah for?"

"Oh…it's not important. I'll ask her when she gets back. See you later."

She brushed a kiss on his cheek and continued down the hallway, ducking into the library and heading into the shelves for privacy. _Logan and Leah?_

Not that he was hers. Not that she had any sort of claim on him. She'd watched him with other women before and been able to suppress the vague annoyance…and in the end, all his relationships had fizzled and she'd enjoyed his attention again.

But this was different. She couldn't get the idea, the image, of them together out of her head.


	10. Waiting For A Girl Like You (Foreigner)

Dinner wound up being thick pork chops fire-grilled in the stove, along with potatoes roasted in their jackets, and a salad. Leah laughed at the last, so obviously for her, as she knew very well that Logan wouldn't even look at a vegetable on his own.

He'd stocked up on alcohol too – the beer and scotch he favored, and white wine for her. As she put the wine back, she took a glance at the rest of the fridge and had to admire his choices: steaks, chicken, and more chops, some fruit and vegetables, but mostly heavy proteins.

"Energy food," she observed, shutting the fridge door and picking up her glass.

Logan was already on the couch with a beer, and he shrugged with a smile. "You think we won't need it?"

"Didn't say that," she grinned, coming over to join him. She'd thrown on a flannel shirt and yoga pants, and settled down to lean against the opposite arm of the couch, stretching her legs over Logan's lap.

Logan immediately reached up and grabbed onto the waistband of her pants, pulling them down and tossing them off to the side. Leah squawked in protest, but subsided as he started to run his hand up and down her now-bare legs.

His hand was cold from where it had held the beer bottle, but quickly warmed up, and she was feeling a little warm herself – between the fire, the wine, and the caresses…

A hand on her waist nudged her closer. Leah scooted over, and closed her eyes as his hand wandered back to her thigh, slipping over the smooth skin and then between, and up – fingertips, skating over the surface of her panties, and she could feel herself growing damp again under that touch. He grasped her around her waist and lifted her onto his lap, and slowly unbuttoned the first few buttons of her shirt, letting it slide down off her shoulders.

Her bra was a front clasp; one twist, and his attention turned to what he'd revealed. He cupped her full breasts in his hands, thumbs lightly brushing the nipples. "Feel like I forgot about something," he murmured, watching Leah arch into his warm hands. He'd barely touched her breasts earlier, but it was clear she wanted him to now, and he gladly obliged, slowly kneading the soft flesh and bending his head to the tips.

His mouth was so warm, and the rasp of his hair against her skin was a study in contrast. She whimpered as he sucked on her, and his hand stroked her other nipple to peak, and she ground herself against the bulge between her legs, eliciting a gasp.

Her hands dived down between them and started working on his jeans. She _hurt_ with wanting him so badly, and the minute she'd freed him and felt him nudging at her entrance, the ache intensified to the point that she… _Not going to beg. Not going to do it…not going to do it…shit._

"Please, Logan," she whimpered. _Fuck._ "Now…please, now…"

His hands were beneath her shirt, trying to push her underwear out of the way, but it wasn't working. One hand came back out and he raised it to her eye level.

She saw the glint of metal on his knuckle; just one, a tiny bit of the claw peeking out. She nodded.

One quick, straight slice. A second later he was in, rocking his hips into the snug fit with his hands on her waist. And then he stopped, breathing deeply for control.

Leah tried to move, but his hands held her firmly in place. "Slow down," he breathed. "We'll get there."

His hand delved back down between them, and he got his thumb just in the right place – and at the same time, rocked forward, using the other hand clamped on her hip to control her movement. His thumb flicked against her clit with his thrust, and she gasped.

 _Flick. Rock. Flick. Rock._

He was going way too slow. Leah squirmed, but he wasn't letting her speed up; he kept it slow, maddeningly slow, and the ache between her thighs kept building. His breathing grew harsher and his nostrils flared, smelling her; she was whimpering, _mewling_ , lost in pleasure, her focus only on his hands touching her, the feeling of him inside her.

"You tell me what you need, Leah," he growled in her ear. "Ain't ever my way to finish before you do...so when we fuck, if I'm not getting you there, you tell me what you need, how you need it..."

Goddamn - she was burning up already, and his voice, gravelly and low, sent her over the edge, her cries turning into half-intelligible expletives as the heat peaked and crashed into her. She was inventing words, _fuck shit damn_ just weren't going to cut it, clawing at his back, and he was still rubbing her clit and drawing out her climax, and starting to curse back at her as she finally came down from it and hiked herself up on his lap, and started to move on him, and he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head to the side, fastening his lips onto her neck.

He invented words too as he came, groaning into her neck, his teeth biting the soft skin.

Leah slowed and stopped, dropping her forehead, slick with sweat, onto his shoulder, smiling as she panted for air and listened to him doing the same.

"Next time," she breathed, "I'm taking charge."

Logan chuckled. "You can try."

She rested for another moment, then peeled herself off him gingerly, realizing they were both sticky with sweat and sex. "There's a shower in there, right?"

"Actually…" Logan got to his feet, pulling up his pants. "I've got something better."

* * *

"Oh my god."

He looked mightily pleased with himself as he rolled the tarp cover and pushed it to the side, and she couldn't blame him. It had obviously taken a ton of work to dig the large pool behind the cabin and line it with smooth stone.

"Natural hot tub." She shook her head. "I know you said there was a hot spring…"

"Not too hard to tap it. What was really hard was figuring out how to keep it circulating. I turned all the pumps on when we got here."

Leah had shed her clothes, including her destroyed underwear, and had wrapped herself in a large robe against the chill. She looked with a question, and Logan nodded as he started to strip. "Go ahead…be there in a second."

She slipped out of the robe and into the pool, moaning as the hot water touched her skin. The heat soaked into her muscles, which were beginning to make noise about the extra exertion of the day, and she could just go ahead and fix them…but this was really, really good.

Naked, Logan stepped into the pool and settled down next to her, reaching for one of the beers he'd placed within easy reach. She reclined back against the rock wall, watching him.

"Like what you see?"

"Mmmm." She smiled. "Yes." The steam from the pool was beading on his chest, adding sheen to his muscles in the candlelight from the lanterns by the door. It was a delectable sight.

"Okay, seriously...I would _not_ have thought you'd have something like this here. I sort of had you pegged as a no-frills kind of guy..."

He shrugged. "I've had this cabin for a long time. Kept adding things, the more times I came up. And you know how it goes - the healing factor heals, but sometimes the pain lingers. Heat feels good on muscles that hurt."

She nodded. "I can see that. And for the record, this is totally me, not complaining."

He chuckled and she shifted position, and winced audibly as the swollen flesh between her thighs brushed the rock. Logan looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "You OK?"

"Mm-hmm. Just a little sore."

He wasn't quite able to suppress the smug look that crossed his face, though she gave him credit for trying. "See? Going slow was a good idea."

Leah concentrated for a minute, then relaxed again, reaching for the bar of piney soap he'd left next to the pool. "All better now." She grinned at him.

She soaped up vigorously and then passed it to him, feeling much better without the sweat and stickiness. For a moment, her back was to him as she reached for her glass of wine…

And felt lips touch soft on her neck.

An arm snaked around her waist as she brought the glass to her mouth, pulling her back against hard muscles and masculinity. The lips nibbled, replaced by teeth that bit down – just a little _too_ hard. She cried out and felt his tongue wash hot over the bite mark.

Nibbles again, better this time, and movement – he was gently pushing her up against the edge of the pool and maneuvering her legs to straddle his lap.

"I realized something," he breathed into her ear. "We might have a problem."

Leah folded her arms on the edge, exhaling deeply as she felt his hand under the water questing between her thighs. "Oh?"

"Smelling you hot for me gets me hot too." He slid a finger into her, lubricated by the water. "And right now, that entire cabin reeks of sex."

"Ahhh…" She wasn't even sure if that had been a sigh or an acknowledgement. "So basically, you're not going to stop being horny. At all."

"We might have to air it out a little." Another finger slipped in, and his hand reached to caress her clit at the same time. "Or you could just wear me out to unconsciousness."

"Somehow I…ahhh…I don't think that's possible."

He pulled her up, her back against his chest, and cupped her breast in his free hand. "We should at least try."

Hell, yes.

She reached down and guided him in, then leaned back down on the rock wall. He laughed as he began to move, gently. "What was that about you being in charge this time?"

"Mmmm. Maybe next time."

They were sated enough for slowness; his hips moved in short strokes, minimizing the friction, and Leah arched her back in delight. Logan responded by leaning forward, changing the angle, and bracing his hands on the rock wall on either side of her.

"Shit," he groaned. "This feels so goddamned good, Leah… _you_ feel so goddamned good…"

"So do you," she breathed. "I am…rather upset…that we took six months to get around to doing this…"

He kept moving in her slowly, chuckling. "Got a whole week to make up for lost time."

He felt amazing inside her, but she was mindful of his instructions to her earlier. _Tell me what you need._ "Touch me," she whispered.

She didn't need to ask him twice. His hand slid down her stomach, delving back to the apex of her thighs, and he found her clit again. He slowed his thrusts even more and the pad of his finger stroked her in time, and she felt his teeth nip the shell of her ear. "Like that?"

"Yeah...yeah, that's good..."

He kept working her with his finger, and the climax built and took her gradually this time, a delicious bubbling up of heat that washed through her. As she finished, he sped up, and followed her seconds later, letting out his own long sigh of relaxation. His head rested on her shoulder for a moment before he gradually withdrew.

Leah rested her head on her arms, not moving. She let out a replete sigh and felt a hand touch her back. "Still feeling good?"

"God yes." She laughed. "Although I might be hungry again."


	11. Somebody Else (The 1975)

Logan was out back smoking an evening cigar, which gave her plenty of time to head upstairs and slip into one of her sexier nighties. _We might just want to get some sleep, but I think I've got another round in me, which means he almost certainly does too…_

She pulled a book from her bag and settled into bed. After a few quiet minutes, she heard the back door close and Logan's footsteps moving around downstairs, blowing out the candles and banking the fire for the night. She was still marveling at how warm the cabin was – the temperature outside had dropped rapidly after sunset – but had also seen the thickness of the window glass and the walls. _Warm enough to be okay wearing this thing, anyway!_

A few minutes later, he came up the stairs, and Leah let the blankets slide down to her waist. He stopped dead.

The slip was simple black satin, but hugged her curves and dipped down low to show her smooth back. Deliberately, she marked her place in the book and set it aside. "Are you coming to bed?"

Logan let out a harsh laugh that was more of a bark. "Hell yes."

She shoved the blankets down and crawled up to the edge of the bed, going up on her knees. "Then get over here."

He walked over, brows arching in amusement, but stood before her obediently. She took his face in her hands and kissed him – gently, but fully. They were going to actually take their _time_.

Logan responded eagerly, but Leah deliberately kept the kiss soft. His shirt was already open, so she skated her hands underneath and up, smoothing it off over his shoulders. His undershirt went next.

The bed was high enough that she was able to sit back on her heels and still be at a comfortable eye level to his chest. She slid her lips down the column of his throat, and down further, and lingered, kissing and caressing the sharp outlines of each muscle. It took awhile.

Logan's breathing had sped up significantly by the time she had worked her way down to the waistband of his jeans. Leah smiled, settling a possessive hand over where the seams strained, and was rewarded with a growl. She stroked him once or twice, eliciting more growls.

"That looks uncomfortable," she finally whispered. "Let me help."

She unbuckled his belt and slid the jeans and underwear off him easily, freeing him from the confines of clothes and taking him in her hands. Logan's own hands had twined in her hair as she touched him, and they clenched into fists at the first touch of her mouth. She didn't mind.

She explored him as carefully as he'd touched her earlier, using her tongue to taste every inch, and then finally taking the whole of his cock in her mouth. His skin tasted clean, lightly salty, and faintly of pine from the soap, as she caressed him with lips and tongue.

Logan was groaning above her with every movement – her name punctuated by moans, sighs, and curses - his hands tight in her hair. She knew it was only a matter of time before he lost control, but wanted to please him as long as possible, so she kept her rhythm slow and steady.

When the moment came, she wasn't disappointed. She felt his hips start to thrust, and then all of a sudden she was on her back, and he was pushing her legs apart and burying his face between her thighs. Fingers inside her, tongue on her clit, and she was already wet for him since pleasing him was pleasure for her too, so it didn't take long before she was climaxing against his mouth, and he was rising up and sliding into her even as she was still coming, pulling her leg up over his shoulder to get deeper…

He collapsed with a groan that was more of a shout, but had enough presence of mind left to not put his full weight on her, which she appreciated as they both caught their breath.

He rolled over and onto his side, turning his face toward her with eyes closed. "Jesus, Leah."

She smiled. "I think that's a good end to the day, don't you?"

His head fell back on the pillow. "Shit."

Leah laughed, straightening her clothes and curling back under the blankets. She watched appreciatively as he rose, naked, and went to blow the candles out and bank the fire for the night.

She was surprised to see him pulling on a pair of sweatpants – she'd figured Logan as a sleep-naked guy, no question, but understood as he pulled an extra blanket out of the chest and laid it on the bed.

"It'll get chilly," he warned. Leah nodded, and slipped from bed, ditching the satin slip for much warmer leggings and a flannel shirt.

"Better?"

Logan was back in bed, and turned to give her a half smile as she returned. "Yes and no."

She laughed. She was feeling sleepy, and could already feel the temperature starting to drop with the fires banked. She gestured vaguely in his direction. "Would you mind if…"

"No," he shook his head. "Go ahead. Might as well get comfortable now, instead of waking up with you crawling halfway inside my skin."

His smile took the barb from his words. She blew out the candle on her side, then – a little hesitantly – curled up against him. _Cuddling_ wasn't the first word that came to mind when thinking about Logan _,_ but on the other hand, she was immediately enjoying the additional warmth.

He, on the other hand, seemed entirely at ease with the whole deal, and after blowing out his own candle, spooned up against her with one heavy arm around her waist. Encouraged, Leah rolled over more onto her stomach, wedging one of the pillows under herself just the way she liked it, and pressing her back into Logan.

She was already falling asleep as she felt him drape a leg over hers.

* * *

Jean wrapped her hands around her tea and stared into nothing. She hadn't been able to shake the feeling of irritation that had hounded her ever since she'd learned about where Leah was, and it was driving her crazy.

A large blue shape entered the field of her vision, and Jean looked up. "Hi, Hank."

"I thought you might like some company," he rumbled, sliding into one of the other armchairs. "I would be happy to listen if you'd like to talk about it."

"Thanks, Hank. It's okay though."

"You are annoyed because you found out that Logan did not go to Canada alone."

Jean blinked. "How did you…"

Hank smiled. "You are looking distinctly green, my dear."

She actually looked down at her arm before she realized he was speaking metaphorically. "Oh. Well…he never asked me if I wanted to go to Canada."

"And what would you have said? What _could_ you have said? If I were in your shoes, I think it might help me to consider Logan, my friend, who has had more than his share of unhappiness. I would not be a good friend to him if I begrudged him the chance to find a little of the alternative. And also consider that, for perhaps the first time, he does not have to worry about caring for someone whom he will almost certainly outlive."

"I know, but at the same time, I just…" She sighed, slumping in the chair. "I'm irritated. And I'm selfishly hoping it doesn't work out."

"Jean, I am also your friend, and I believe that the truth is ultimately better than a kind lie. It may be hard for you to hear, but the truth is that from what I saw before they left, they are almost certainly having a very good time and enjoying each other immensely. And I think pretending otherwise would not benefit you."

Her teeth clenched at the thought of Leah _enjoying_ Logan. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I didn't get this irritated with any of his others."

"Then that may be a sign that Leah is different for him. And hopefully as his friend, you'll be able to appreciate that."


	12. Get Used to This (Cyrena)

**Author's (brief) note: Welcome to my new followers, favoriters, and reviewers! As thanks for signing on, here's an unscheduled update: a nice longish chapter for you all. Don't worry, you'll still get another one tomorrow; this story will regularly update on Mondays. Enjoy! –PC**

* * *

Leah opened her eyes and, for a moment, had no idea where she was.

Awareness came gradually as sleep faded. She lifted herself on an elbow, blinking in the sunlight streaming through the window next to the bed.

The clothes scattered around the bed, which they hadn't bothered to clean up the night before, completed the picture. As did the man sprawled next to her.

She smiled.

She felt great.

Leah rolled her shoulders, raising her arms over her head, and the motion woke Logan, who opened his eyes and smiled at the sight of her. "Morning."

"Good morning." She grinned, sliding back under the covers and rolling on her side to face him. "I slept like a rock."

"Same." Logan stretched.

They looked at each other for a minute, and Leah laughed, burying her face in the pillow. "I, um, shouldn't feel awkward around you…"

He chuckled. "Things are a little different now."

She peeked up from the pillow and, after a moment, scooted closer to him. Logan lifted his arm in invitation, and she moved closer yet as he wrapped it around her waist. Their legs tangled together and Leah smiled in contentment.

"I don't even know what time it is."

"Doesn't matter much. We can be on whatever schedule we want."

"I can't remember the last time I had a whole week to do that."

The physical contact having alleviated some of her nervousness, she leaned in and lightly kissed his lips. At least, that was what she had intended…a simple good morning…but his arm tightened and held her in the kiss.

When he let her go – quite a few minutes later – Leah grinned. "Definitely feeling less awkward now."

"Mmm." He stroked a hand up her side, lightly running over her breast, and toyed with a button on her shirt. "How much less?"

In answer, she leaned forward again and sealed their mouths together.

Entwined, they rolled over, Leah on her back and Logan rising over her. He settled his hips between her legs, feeling her wrap them around his waist. Leah smiled against his lips as she felt the hard length of him.

"Someone woke up feeling good," she murmured.

"Mmhmm."

He unbuttoned her shirt, letting it fall to either side, and leaned back into her, feeling bare skin on skin and leaving a trail of kisses down her neck to her collarbone. Leah arched into him, drifting her hands down his back.

He leaned back and pulled her leggings and socks off, and shucked his own sweats; at the same time, Leah shrugged out of her shirt, balling it up out of the way. Then he was back, nothing between them, settling again between her legs…

His hand slipped down, testing, asking wordless permission. Leah nodded - she was definitely ready - and felt him shift, slowly sinking into her, an inch at a time. She moaned, burying her head in his shoulder and trying to angle her hips up even more to get him deeper. Their bodies fit together so well; he was a perfect fit inside her and hitting all the right spots as he moved.

He grasped her thigh with one hand and pushed her knee up against her chest, thrusting hard, but slowly. His teeth were gritted; Leah reached up, kissing him again and sliding her tongue into his mouth. _Here's to not caring about morning breath…_

Realizing that he was closer than she was, Logan rolled them over, holding Leah tight and settling her on top of him so that he could slip his hand between them and help her catch up. She gasped as his fingertips touched her, gliding through the wetness and circling her clit, and started to move on him faster, seeking release…

They made it nearly at the same time – Leah first, and then Logan, the spasms of her climax sending him over the edge along with her. He pulled her down and kissed her as he came, groaning his release into her mouth.

Their mouths parted reluctantly as the aftershocks ebbed. Leah straightened her legs and gracefully laid down on him, keeping him inside her for a few more moments.

"Okay," she breathed into his neck. "Good morning. I'm awake now. Sort of." She felt him laugh, and slip out of her as he did. With a sigh, she rolled off of him, onto her stomach on the mattress.

Logan reached out, languidly, and ran a hand up her spine, skating through the light sheen of sweat. "Suppose we should eventually get up."

"Mmmf."

He chuckled, the laugh rumbling in his chest, an echo of the bone-deep relaxation he was feeling. "Breakfast? Coffee?"

Leah's head lifted slightly from the pillow. "Mmmf?"

* * *

They dressed and headed downstairs, working together to build up the fires and start warming the cabin up. The sunlight was helping, and shortly it was quite comfortable. Leah had never cooked on a wood stove before; Logan showed her how, and in short order they'd knocked up a bumper breakfast, complete with plenty of coffee.

"I have to admit," Leah mumbled, around a mouthful of eggs, "I initially thought you'd gone a little nuts with the groceries, but now I think you were right on target…"

He chuckled. "Like I said…thought we might need it. " He crunched down on a piece of bacon. "Figured we'd basically be spending the week either having sex or eating."

Leah blushed, and then laughed. "Doesn't seem like you were wrong so far."

"So." Logan pushed his empty plate to the side, leaning his elbows on the table. "We're done eating." He raised an eyebrow.

She laughed again at what he was implying. "Hmmm…how about a soak first? I feel a little sticky…"

* * *

The next days passed in a similar routine. They'd wake up – usually mid-morning – and make breakfast, then wind up back in bed until wanting lunch. In the afternoon, they'd take care of the minimal chores in the cabin, soak in the outdoor pool, play cards, or spend a little time individually. Both had brought books, and Leah, sheepishly, had a folder of biology essays to grade.

After breakfast on the third day, Leah wandered outside with him while Logan sliced a few logs to refill the wood boxes. Carrying her coffee, she surveyed the small clearing around the back of the cabin: room for a small slate patio, a couple of chairs, and the pool.

She pointed at the small structure off to the left with her chin. "Woodshed?"

"Yeah." He'd brought out a pile of logs and was setting them up on a stump one by one. "Usually come up in September and fill it. Green on one wall, seasoned on the rest. Clearing's getting a little big though, need to move farther into the woods next time."

Leah evaluated it, seeing that he was right. "Want me to help?"

He slashed through one of the logs. "What?"

She spread her hands in a "duh" motion. "I could do something about that easily."

He realized what she was talking about and groaned. "Yeah. Didn't even think of it, but…yeah. If you don't mind."

"Sure. Hold on a sec."

She went inside, returning shortly dressed in boots, sweater, and jeans. "Looks like pine is best here?"

"Yeah." He had finished with the logs while she'd been dressing, and was stacking them to take inside. "One request? Little silly, but…"

"Go for it."

He extended one set of claws. "Can you grow 'em about that thick?"

Leah regarded him quizzically, then threw her head back and laughed – it was her turn for a "duh" realization, that he wanted to be able to cut through with one stroke. "Yes, of course. That's a fairly young pine sapling. I'll grow a bunch about that thick, and get some more started. That should set you up for wood for a few years, and I'll throw in some more mature trees to replace what you've cleared already."

She walked to the edge of the woods and knelt, sinking her hands into the dirt.

 _Good soil. Dark, thick loam – new pines will do well here. She extends her senses into the dirt, feeling for seedlings that have already begun to grow…_

 _The plant life recognizes her. It isn't sentience, exactly – more of a feeling of kinship. She feels further into the dirt, examining the available nutrients and water._

Logan stood and watched her, the logs set to the side. He'd never seen Demeter at work before on anything big - just small projects around the school, and the kitchen garden - and it was intriguing.

"Logan," she said softly, "is it going to rain in the next couple of days?"

He sniffed the air. "Maybe…smells more like snow though."

"That's fine."

 _She falls silent again. Seeds, water, nutrients – she can start the pines now and they will sleep over the winter, then grow strong in the spring._

 _She begins._

Logan watched as the new trees erupted from the leaves and moss carpeting the ground. Demeter wasn't straining herself; it took about twenty minutes for the tallest to stop growing, although she left several of them shorter, as she'd planned.

Leah rolled her shoulders and stood up, brushing the dirt from her hands. "There. I asked about the rain as they'll need more water soon, but snow should be fine. This early in the fall, it should get some melt and replenish the soil."

He nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem." She smiled. "It was easy. Plenty of seeds already in the ground, good soil."

"Can you grow something without seeds?"

"Much harder. Technically I can't – I have to find them and summon them. So theoretically, I could grow you a kitchen garden right now, but I'd be pulling the seeds from somewhere else. That's tiring. But, if I'm not picky about what I'm growing, there's almost always something I can work with."

* * *

Inside, she was washing her hands at the sink when she felt him behind her.

"Always thought you were sexy when I saw you work..."

Logan's breath traced her neck, nibbling just at the right spot that he was becoming extremely familiar with. Leah shuddered, flicking water off her hands. "Thanks..."

His hand was on her hip, turning her around. She leaned her butt back on the sink and raised her face for his kiss, trailing her fingers down his bare arms as their tongues tangled together.

And then she felt him unbuttoning her pants.

A second later, his hand slid inside. She shuddered again at the touch, moaning into his mouth - he was rubbing her with his whole hand, palm cupping her, and she was already getting wet...

He pulled back from her slightly as his hand moved. "You just looked so hot out there...had to touch you..."

"Not complaining," she gasped. His hand kept rubbing, and she blindly reached behind her, grabbing onto the counter. She was leaning at an angle and spread her legs wider, bracing her feet for more stability, eyes closed to better concentrate on what his hand was doing.

Logan growled, watching her. "Fuck, Leah..."

She cried out and sagged farther back against the counter as he sank two fingers inside her and his thumb circled her clit. She couldn't believe how fast he could get her going - for Christ's sake, he'd gotten her off twice already that day, and it had been awhile for her before this week, sure, but was all of this really just due to deprivation?

Thought stopped abruptly as he pushed her over the edge yet again, and she clenched the counter in her fists, pressing her hips towards his hand even as her head fell back and she cried out her satisfaction.

Then she was being picked up and set down on the counter, and he was unbuckling his belt. She opened her eyes and clasped her arms around his neck, and the look of intense pleasure on his face - he was grinning fiercely as he slid inside her and heard her moan for him - was...

 _Fuck. I am in so much trouble._


	13. Body Say (Demi Lovato)

**Author's Note: For Laurel, who wanted to see Leah taking charge.** **Enjoy! -PC**

* * *

On the afternoon of the fourth day, Leah was at the table with a cup of coffee halfheartedly working on the biology essays. Logan had been outside for almost an hour replenishing the wood supply, and she looked up as he came in the back door. She was surprised to see him knocking snow off of his boots.

"When did that happen?"

"Storm's just blowing in, the one I smelled yesterday. It's moving faster than I thought." He'd stripped down to his undershirt and was glistening with sweat from exertion. "Smells big."

"You need help with the firewood? Or anything else?"

"Nah. Got enough cut, just bringing in more for the night. We're not gonna want to go outside for awhile."

She could hear the wind picking up already, and noticed how the quality of the light in the cabin was changing. As Logan made several more trips, filling the wood boxes for both of the fireplaces and in the kitchen, she built up all three of the fires and put the coffee pot back on to reheat.

Once the wood boxes were brimming, Logan rinsed himself off in the bathroom and threw on fresh clothes, then methodically moved around the cabin battening down the hatches. He had covers and extra foam insulation ready at each window, and covers to seal the doors also; by the time he was done, they were as snug as possible.

He helped himself to the coffee and then joined Leah at the table. "Should be all set."

"Thank you." She smiled, putting her pen aside. "Is it weird to say I'm excited?"

"Nah. I like blizzards. We're warm, plenty of food, things to do."

"Logan…" He tensed, thinking she wanted to talk long-term, but she was going somewhere else. "Up here it feels like we're in our own little world. Do you ever think about just throwing in the towel and staying here?"

"Sometimes." He offered her a teasing smile. "Get rich, then just live out here, at least for a few years."

She laughed. "So far, I wouldn't blame you at all. Hey…do you think we should let everyone know we're okay? They might be worried about the blizzard, and I brought the mini-sat in case we had a big emergency."

Logan shrugged. It wasn't something that would have really occurred to him, but it sounded like a good idea.

Leah quickly set up the little satellite dish and pulled her phone from where it had been buried at the bottom of her backpack. She typed out a brief text to Charles and Hank, and then took down the sat. "All done. Hopefully they get it, the sat signal was starting to get weak."

He'd wandered over to refill his coffee, turning back as Leah picked up her pen and chewed on the end absently, chin resting in her hand.

She looked adorable. The realization was like a shock to his chest.

The sex was amazing, he had no problem admitting that. He hadn't felt relaxed like this in a long time and the multiple orgasms a day were probably a good part of the reason. And he liked Leah, especially now that he was getting a chance to know her. But thinking she was adorable?

He shied away from it. Not ready quite yet. But…

He set his coffee down and crossed to behind her chair, resting his hands on her shoulders. She reached up, covering one of his hands with hers and lightly squeezing.

He liked it. There was that shock again.

He realized that he wanted to untie her thick dark hair – held back in a messy knot – and run his hands through it. Bury his face in it and inhale her scent, now mixed with his.

And he realized that he'd gotten way too used to desiring a woman he couldn't touch. That now, he was free to act on wanting Leah – to touch her, with her permission, however and whenever he pleased.

So he did.

He unknotted her hair and watched it fall down her back, combing his fingers through the waves that had formed from it being up. Leah hummed in contentment, and again when he lifted a fistful to his face and breathed deeply.

He leaned down and began nibbling the side of her neck, brushing her hair aside with one hand and sliding the other around to cup her breast. Leah made a sound of appreciation and started turning to face him, but he tightened his grip.

"Stay there," he whispered. "Keep working."

"What?"

"Keep working," he repeated.

"O…kay…"

She went back to the essay and realized right away what he was doing. _That smug bastard._ He unbuttoned her shirt from behind and slid his hands inside, scolding her when she dropped her pen.

"Keep working, Leah."

Hands on her breasts, lips on her neck. _Yeah, right._ She tried to focus on the essay in front of her and read the same sentence three times as he rolled her nipples between his fingers. " _Shit,_ Logan…"

"Stand up," he whispered.

She shot out of the chair so fast it fell over. Logan kicked it out of the way and stood behind her, using his body to keep Leah penned against the table. "Keep working."

"You've got to be kidding!"

In answer, he palmed her breast again and started unbuttoning her jeans with the other hand. "Keep working or I stop."

" _Fuck!"_

His hands slowed, making good on his threat, and she picked up the essay again. Dividing her focus made everything he was doing to her feel more intense; the more she tried to read the damn essay, the more her body responded to him. _Which he knew. Bastard._

He shoved her jeans and underwear down her legs, and stood again as she stepped out of them, unbuckling his belt. Leah braced her feet at the sound, anticipating, but although she felt him close behind her, he didn't enter yet – instead, his fingers sought between her legs. She glared down at the essay in her hands and scrawled a "B+" on it.

"Why the B+?" he growled in her ear, his fingers dancing.

"It wasn't…there was a…Logan, Jesus!" He was stroking her clit very slowly and he thought she could form a coherent sentence? He should be upset if she managed it.

"It wasn't what?" His lips traced the shell of her ear and moved down, teeth grazing along her neck. Burying his face in her hair again.

"It wasn't…it wasn't…" Moans were apparently punctuation at this point. "The assignment was a case study. How diseases spread, specifically looking at the H5N1 outbreaks of 2008 and why it's considered a prime candidate for bioterrorism."

"And?"

"The student disagreed with the conclusion that it's a pandemic threat. They're wrong, but the argument was still well structured. So, a B+. _Logan…"_

"Mmm. You're so hot when you talk about biology."

He finally slid inside her and she cried out with the relief of it.

"Go ahead, Leah," he murmured. "Let go…it feels so damn good when I'm inside you and you come for me…"

She obliged him as he increased his pace, thrusting harder with a hand still between her legs, and she let go at full volume and swore it made the climax even better, though gods knew it was plenty good already with how he'd been teasing her, and she felt him withdraw his hand and grip both her hips, moving faster and seeking his own release, and shortly afterwards he answered her scream with his own roar.

Leah let herself flop over onto the table and the pile of half-graded essays. "Christ."

Logan was grinning as he withdrew and went in search of a towel.

* * *

Leah had started a beef stew that morning, and by the time they'd gotten cleaned up and cleared her work off of the table, it was ready. They ate in the living room, sprawling out in front of the fire as the storm howled.

Logan took both their empty bowls into the kitchen and returned with more drinks. To Leah's surprise, he handed her the wineglass, and then – slowly – settled down next to her on the nest of blankets they'd made, leaning against the side of the couch. Even more slowly, he slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her back against him.

She very deliberately didn't look at him. Instead, she curled into him, resting her head in the hollow of his shoulder and her wineglass on the floor. She felt his chin land on top of her head.

Full. Warm. Content.

"Tell me something about you," he rumbled.

"Something new?" She'd told him a few stories already. "What do you want to know?"

Idly, he used his leg to capture hers, sandwiching it between both of his. Leah adjusted her hips, leaning more of her weight back onto him. "Pick something. What did you use your powers for first?"

She laughed. "You really want to know that? I have the most boring origin story ever. It's so stupid. I was nine."

"Tell me."

"Fine. My dad was complaining about not having enough lettuce for the dinner salad. So I went out into the garden and grew him some more."

He chuckled, angling his head to catch her eye. "Really?"

"Mmhmm. Strangely enough, he didn't finish making the salad."

"Suppose not. What'd you do after that?"

"My dad's a horticulturist too, so I think he got so excited about the possibilities, he was pretty okay with the whole mutant thing. But, that was back in the early 90's…things were a little difficult still, you remember…so he thought it was best to keep it a secret." She grinned. "He never let me enter the state fair. Teenage me was pissed about that…I grew a giant pumpkin every year just for spite."

Leah turned in his arms, wiggling her body to be able to face him. "Every time I'd hear about communities being hungry on the news, or crops failing, and knowing I could do something about it – that was the hard part. I can get two harvests out of a field in a summer with the right soil replenishment techniques. " She leaned her head back on his shoulder, somber now. "There was one guy…friend of my dad's. His entire corn crop got destroyed by a freak hail storm."

"I'm guessing you fixed it."

"Sure did. Climbed out my window the night after he finished clearing the field of all the debris. It took me the whole night to regrow all of it, and I was half-dead afterwards – I was sixteen at the time. Couldn't climb back up, so Dad found me asleep on the porch in the morning, and by then everyone was already talking about the "miracle"." Her mouth quirked in a smile, remembering. "Dad was so pissed at me."

She took a long drink from her wineglass and then resettled herself in his arms. "So there you go, there's something about me. What about you?"

He slipped his hand under the edge of her sweater, lightly resting it on the smooth skin of her waist. "Not easy to talk about me."

"Do you need more beer?"

He let out a soft snort. "Trust me. There's not enough alcohol in the world to make it easier."

"Look, Logan…" Leah took a deep breath. "You can tell me stuff in your own time. That's okay. But I can't promise I won't say something really fucking stupid if I don't know any better."

"That's fair." He reached for a beer with his free hand and drank deeply. "Suppose there's one thing I should mention now."

She lifted her eyebrows and he took a breath. "You know Jean."

"Oh, that?" She rolled her eyes. "I know about that already."

"…You do?"

"Hate to break it to you, but _everyone_ knows about that." She grinned. "Space aliens, if there are any, probably know about that."

He looked so stunned that she dropped the teasing. "Seriously, though, what were you going to say?"

"Just that this has made me realize how fucked up that whole thing is." He tightened his arms around her. "Figured that out when I realized I could touch you if I wanted to."

"And that's weird?"

"That I don't have to tell myself no? Yeah. It is." He sighed. "I've been really fucked up for a long time. Not just that. But I'm getting better."

Leah bit her lip, then slowly reached up and touched his cheek with her fingertips, turning his face back to her. "Well, I can assure you that you can absolutely touch me as much as you want to."

She nearly added, _and that goes for after this week's over, too_ , but the mood was heavy already, so instead, she stretched up and lightly kissed him until she felt him relax, and then snuggled back down into his arms.

They curled together in silence for a few minutes; her hip was starting to ache from resting all of her weight on it, and she finally had to roll her shoulders and sit up. Logan stood, moving over to the fire to build it back up and add several more logs, and then looked out the window with a low whistle.

"Storm's still going," he reported, settling back down on the blankets. "Snow's so thick you can barely see. It's up to the window."

Leah rolled onto her other side to face him, pleasantly buzzing from the wine. "We'll be able to get out of here, right?"

"Yeah. Figured we might get a storm, that's why we drove that truck. Should be fine. Got three more days before we head back."

Leah shook her head. "I don't want to think about it yet." She cast her eyes over the blankets, fire, empty bottles. "This is dangerously addictive."

"Yeah."

He still sounded a little somber, even as his arm snaked back around her waist. Leah decided to take matters into her own hands.

Literally.

She shifted onto his lap, straddling his hips and leaning down for a kiss. For once - although he responded eagerly - it didn't turn rabid right away, and she felt his arms go around her but his hands weren't going for her clothes yet.

Perfect.

She could tell the exact moment when his mood started lifting, because other things started to lift as well, and she could feel it even through both their pants. She grinned against his mouth and slid off him. He looked at her in surprise.

Her lips curved mischievously.

She stretched out on her right side, carefully positioning her head in the crook of his shoulder, and trailed her hand down his chest to his belt. A few expert flicks of her fingers managed to unbuckle it one-handed – _Shit, that was way more elegant than I thought it'd be –_ and she swiftly dispensed with buttons and zipper as well, sliding her hand inside his pants.

The minute she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, she felt him jump.

She pressed her mouth to his throat and kissed her way up to his ear, lightly scraping her teeth on the lobe. At the same time, her left hand squeezed gently.

Logan swore.

Working within the confines of the fabric – she wanted to make him wait – she slowly stroked him with her fingertips, while continuing to kiss and nip along his neck. He couldn't reach her with his right arm, and his left hand, trapped by her body, had to settle for curling over the curve of her butt.

She glossed her fingertips over his balls, and felt him shudder. "That tickles," he growled.

Well, okay then. Skip that part.

She returned her attention to the main attraction and wrapped her hand around him again, moving slowly up and down. There was only so much of this she wanted to do – she had more in store for him - but she had a pretty good sense by now of what his point of no return felt like.

His hips moved in time with her hand. "You like this?" she murmured against his neck.

"Leah…"

"Yes," she whispered. "Say my name."

He did, deserving a reward, so she threw her leg back over him and straddled his hips again, straightening up to be able to take off his shirt and undershirt.

He reached for her for a kiss, but she was already sliding back down his body the minute she tossed his shirts to the side. She could feel his hands trying to get a hold on her sweater – he was clearly unhappy that she was still wearing all of her clothes – but nope. Not yet.

She draped herself over his thigh, looking up at him from his lap through dark lashes. He was breathing heavily, hands clenched into fists at his sides. _Oh, lover. I'm just getting started._

She licked her lips and held his eyes as she reached into his pants again and brought him out. She let him see her smile at the sight: he was really magnificent, if she was honest; perfectly sized, an ideal balance of thickness and length.

She took a breath, closed her eyes, and stroked down the length of him with her tongue. He cursed.

She felt his hands go into her hair – he seemed to really like doing that – and sift through the thick mass pooling in his lap, pulling it back to be able to see her. Perfect timing; she took an inch or so of his shaft into her mouth, then let it slide back out and continued to gently stroke up and down him with her tongue.

He hadn't let her really go to town till now – they'd both still been impatient for the fulfillment of actual sex. She didn't intend to waste the chance, and made him wait before she took him in her mouth again…and then it was only a little more, but she swirled her tongue around the head with a gentle suck. Alternating slowly, she took more and more of him in at a time, feeling the skin growing hotter and tighter and tasting salt at the head.

"Fuck, Leah…you'd better stop now…"

She already knew he was getting close, but really appreciated the courtesy of the warning. Rather than interrupt what she was doing for a verbal answer, she instead curled her arm over his thighs, holding on tighter, and quickened her pace slightly. _Not going anywhere, lover._ His hand fisted in her hair.

"Leah, I mean it…shit…"

She opened one eye, saw his head fall back, and at the same time felt him spasm and her mouth flooded with salt. As she felt him finish, she withdrew slowly, knowing he'd be sensitive, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

She propped herself on an elbow and tried not to look too pleased with herself. She probably wasn't succeeding.

He opened his eyes, letting his head loll to the side. "You didn't have to."

She grinned. "I wanted to. And it seemed like you enjoyed it."

"Enjoyed it." He smiled, eyes closed. "That's one way to put it."

He looked so languid that she was unprepared for him to grab her waist and toss her onto her back. He easily pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, and with the other, disposed of the rest of his clothes.

She thought she should probably be alarmed by the predatory look in his eyes.

" _My turn."_

* * *

He took _hours_ with her.

When it was finally over, she rested her sweaty forehead against her bicep, catching her breath.

Her hands were still above her head, now tied to the leg of the couch with a scarf.

He hadn't been content with one orgasm from her. He'd teased and worked on her with fingers and lips and tongue…Three times? Maybe four? She'd seriously lost count.

She had love bites along the insides of both thighs - and marching up her neck, and across the smooth expanse of her stomach - that she hadn't bothered to fix yet.

That would require energy.

Her throat felt raw from how much she'd screamed his name.

Over.

And over.

And over.

When he'd finally entered her, he'd drawn that out too, pulling back and slowing down every time he got close. She was pretty sure she'd blacked out during the final climax, it had been so intense.

Her entire body felt like a wrung-out washcloth.

And the man who'd done it to her was lying on his side smiling.

"Okay," she sighed. "You win."


	14. The Business of Emotion (Big Data)

**Author's Note: Once again, thanks and welcome to all the new followers, favoriters, and reviewers! You all make me smile, especially everyone in the reviews who is jumping on board and rooting for (hashtag) Team Leagan! Enjoy your unscheduled extra update.**

 **(PS: I received a PM asking if Leah has a celebrity lookalike. For the visual folks out there, yes she does, and it's Odette Annable!) -PC**

* * *

The storm had blown itself out by morning. Leah rolled out of bed, yanking the extra blanket around her, as she padded to the fireplace and built the fire up.

She quickly peeked out the window, then dived back under the covers, seeking the pocket of heat that was Logan. He sleepily reached out and pulled her into his arms.

"How's it look?"

"Cold," she grumbled. "And white. It's up to the door handles on the truck."

Logan whistled. "We'll be shoveling to leave. Smells like it should warm up though, so maybe we'll get some melt."

Leah burrowed closer to him and he laughed. "Stay in bed till it gets warmer in here?"

"Mmhmm."

He laughed again, rolling away from her to sounds of protest. "Relax. Just gonna go downstairs and get the fires going."

When he came back up, he was carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. Leah peeked out of the cocoon she'd made of the covers as she caught the smell. "I could kiss you."

He slid back into bed, leaving the coffee on the bedside table. "Thought you might," he murmured against her mouth.

Several long, thorough kisses later, he finally passed her one of the mugs and drank deeply from the other. Leah unwrapped her leg from around his waist and sat up, sipping. She sighed with delight. "I might need to kiss you more to properly thank you for this."

"Don't let me stop you."

They both set their mugs down and she moved back into his arms, wrapping herself around him only partially for warmth, and sought his mouth again. They both tasted of coffee; Leah pushed him over, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips, letting her shirt pool around her.

Logan stroked his hands up her thighs. "Now this is a good morning."

She was sitting on him in just the right way to feel him stirring, and smiled. "Let's make it even better."

His hands were already sliding underneath her pants, helping her lift up and kick them off. He laughed at her as she quickly peeled his sweats off, and then carefully arranged the blankets around herself to keep her legs covered. She glared down at him and he subsided, smiling, but slipping his hand under her shirt.

The smile dropped from his lips, replaced by a look of focused intent as he found her warm and wet already. "Leah…"

"Mmhmm." She shifted her hips and he groaned, reaching for her shirt buttons with his free hand. He opened them, but left the shirt on, finding the sight oddly erotic – especially with seeing his other hand between her thighs…

He'd learned a lot in just a few days, and he knew what she liked. His fingers stroked gently, then circled, fluttering lightly in just the right spot. Her whimper was like music – and feeling her move her hips against his hand, looking for more, was even more gratifying.

She lifted up and settled down, and he was in – smooth, warm, snug and soft, all around him. He exhaled deeply, running his hands up her sides. "Leah."

"That's it," she murmured. "That's it, Logan…"

He stroked her breasts, back down to her legs, as she rocked slowly on him, bracing her hands on his shoulders. She was smiling down at him, determined to do all the work, but he wasn't willing to go anywhere without her – and his fingers sent her soaring, pulling him right along with her.

Leah lifted off him and curled up against his side. "As a scientist, I have to respect the data. Five mornings is conclusive: that's better than coffee."

* * *

Logan had been right, and the temperature gradually warmed as the day went on, starting the snow melting. By afternoon, a good six inches had turned to water.

Leah stepped out onto the patio carefully, carrying drinks, and smiled at Logan, who was already in the pool after yet another hour spent cutting wood. She wedged his beer and her wineglass into one of the mounds of remaining snow, and then straightened, looking distastefully at the slush between patio and pool as she walked back onto the stone. "I guess I should get this over with."

He was smoking as he soaked, and tapped ash from the end of his cigar, chuckling. "Thought you liked the snow..."

"I do, but just because I like it doesn't mean I want to put my bare feet in it." Delaying the inevitable, she gathered up her hair and tied it into a braid.

"Nice and hot in here." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Water's warm, too."

She had to laugh at the innuendo. "All right, fine."

Leah stripped, leaving her clothes piled in one of the chairs, and practically dived across the snow. She slid into the pool with a splash and made Logan sputter as water landed on his face, settling down across from him and grabbing her wineglass.

He wiped the water from his eyes and glared at her, taking the cigar from his mouth and setting it on the edge of the pool. "Hey."

"Hmm?"

His eyebrow lifted again. "What're you doing all the way over there?"

"Drinking." She lifted her glass, toasting him.

"Hmph." He looked displeased, but was still smiling. _Are we teasing? We're_ teasing _. And it's easy. _"Bet you'd be warmer over here."

"You might be right."

"You should try it."

It _was_ easy. So easy, with her body feeling so good; with sleeping soundly every night, warm and comfortable and pleasured to exhaustion. So easy, with nothing to worry about but relaxing.

So easy to let whatever was happening...just happen.

She smiled, and closed the distance between them by half, and nearly burst out laughing at his half-suppressed growl. "Hmm. You were right. It's definitely warmer."

He growled again. "Leah."

"Yes, Logan?"

"Get the hell over here so I can fucking touch you."

 _Well, that's certainly direct._

She pretended to think just long enough to make him snarl, and then slipped smoothly through the water, finding his lap and settling down on him face-to-face. "Is this better?"

Instead of answering her with words, his hands cupped her waist, fitting into the curve between her ribs and the flare of her hips. He slowly smoothed his palms up, then down, spreading his fingers wide to cover as much skin as possible. His head bent down and she felt his nose and lips trace along her neck, gently nuzzling, and she couldn't help the soft sigh that escaped her.

He raised his head and looked at her. "Yeah. Better."

She bit her lip and smiled almost shyly, meeting his eyes. His hands were still moving, fingers lightly tracing patterns on either side of her spine. She leaned forward, kissing him lightly, and nipped his lower lip, feeling him smile and hearing his breath catch. She did it again and his hands tightened on her waist.

"Tease..."

"I wasn't the one complaining about me being too far away to touch..."

Their mouths were fitting together, slow and sensual, and she tightened her arms, hands moving from his shoulders to his back and melting into the kiss. She was melting into _him_ , practically, as the kiss went on: everything else gradually fading away and just concentrating on how kissing felt; it wasn't quite a novelty, not anymore, not with how much they'd done it, but a part of her head still marveled that it _was_ something they did now.

Gradually, the kiss ended, and she was staring into his eyes again. Logan's hand slowly lifted, and wrapped around her braid, and pulled off the elastic, tossing it to the side. His fingers wound through her hair, combing out the remains of the braid, letting it fall over her shoulder as he continued to run his fingers through it.

She felt clumsy, sluggish and thick, like she was moving through water both above and below. She didn't want to blink - didn't want to break the eye contact - didn't want to disturb whatever was in the air.

"I like this." Her voice was barely above a whisper. _I like you._

"Me, too." His was equally soft.

 _I like kissing you. I like your company. I like being quiet with you._

The moment felt too fragile to say more. _Not yet. Let it grow slowly._

So instead, she kissed him again, and smiled as he pulled her closer.

* * *

"Strip poker?"

"Why not?" She laughed. "Scared?"

Logan leaned across the floor, where they were sprawled in front of the fire after dinner. The mood that had started outside in the water - something soft, something delicate and different and barely-there - had followed them inside, and Leah was lying comfortably on a nest of blankets and pillows with her feet in his lap.

He stretched out beside her and kissed her lingeringly, murmuring against her lips. "Don't have to play cards for you to get me naked."

"Mmm…you're just afraid I'd win…"

"Don't we both win?"

"Fair…" The kissing went on, turning rather thorough before she shoved at his chest, breaking the kiss. "I've got another idea. Truth or Dare."

He sighed, sitting back on his heels. "You really won't let this game thing go, will you?"

"Well, I didn't bring the sexy dice, so it's Truth or Dare or strip poker. You pick."

Logan rolled his eyes. "How about a game of you tell me whatever the hell you want to while I take your clothes off?"

"Make it go both ways and you've got a deal. A truth for every piece of clothing."

She wouldn't have dared...but what had happened earlier outside, the feeling that something was changing, had given her a little courage. She was wearing leggings, thick socks, and a chunky sweater over a chambray shirt. As his answer, Logan reached out and moved her onto his lap, skating his hands under the sweater and pulling it off over her head.

Leah wrapped her legs around his waist, thinking of what to tell him. _Be careful._ "You have a really great ass."

He had been about to nip her neck, but burst out laughing. Leah grinned. "I'm serious. I noticed your ass – totally out of nowhere - and then realized how hot you are."

She smoothed her hands over his shoulders and started working on the buttons of his shirt as he resumed his task, lightly scraping his teeth along the column of her throat. "Guess I should be grateful…"

"Your turn," she reminded him, pushing the shirt off his shoulders. He straightened his arms to let her throw it aside, and then wrapped them back around her, dropping more light kisses on her neck.

"Knew I wanted you for a while. Don't know when I realized it first. Figured you maybe had something with Hank…but you never really smelled like him. And then when you said you didn't...wasn't sure what to do next."

"I think you figured it out…" Leah slid off him and placed her feet in his lap. He skated his fingers up her leg, stopping at her thigh and then traveling back down, and peeled off her sock. "I hate beets."

He snorted. Hands up her leg again, pulling off her other sock.

"Last night on this floor was the best sex I've ever had." _Whoops. So much for careful._

His eyebrows shot up at the abrupt topic shift. Leah's cheeks were blazing, and her hands shook the tiniest bit, but she forced herself to hold his gaze.

Logan wasn't saying anything. She shifted back onto his lap and grabbed his undershirt, pulling it off.

"Yeah. Same."

The words dropped like a stone in the middle of the room. Leah was able, with great difficulty, to keep herself from sighing with relief.

His arms were back around her, and his hands curled around her thighs and then up, filling his palms with the firm curves of her butt. She leaned down, kissed him, felt him respond and pull her hips in tightly to him, felt the hardness of him through his pants.

He was working on the buttons of her shirt. _Well, go for broke, I guess._

"I have a fantasy about you."

He'd been in the middle of opening the top button. As the cloth released, he pressed his mouth to her skin. "What is it?"

Another button.

"I really want you to fuck me."

Another button.

"On my desk."

Another.

"Back at the school."

She'd been worried that her statement was going to kill the mood because of what it implied, but got very quick proof otherwise. Logan ripped open the rest of her shirt and threw it aside – seriously, she was going to be resewing buttons for a week, and she really hoped she'd be able to find all of them before they left – and somehow had her bra off too, she wasn't quite sure how that had happened but his hands were warm on her bare breasts as his mouth slammed down on hers…apparently, thinking about sex on her desk got him excited.

Shit – she owed him another truth for the bra, although it was really hard to think with him kissing her that hard.

Fuck it.

Enough talking. She wanted him inside her, _now._

She grabbed his hand and guided it to the waistband of her leggings, and he got the hint because he threw her onto her back, pulled the rest of her clothes off, and had the rest of his gone too in about ten seconds flat. Then he was pulling her back up, onto his lap, and he was teasing her, rubbing his cock along her…oh, fuck _yes_.

She leaned on his shoulders to get her hips in the right position, and discovered that everything they'd been doing had really gotten her going – she hadn't realized how close she was, normally she needed at least a little more, but as he slid into her she gasped. "Logan…"

He twined his hands in her hair. "Let go, baby...come for me, let go..."

One flex of his hips, such a small movement inside her, and she was done, her nails digging into his back as the heat swept through, and she was still coming when he laid her down and covered her mouth with his, hips moving in time with his tongue, and it didn't take him long to finish either – she actually felt him pulse inside her, her body still exquisitely sensitive, and he slowed and stopped, breathing deeply.

He stayed inside and looked down at her. "Anywhere you want, Leah. Any time."


	15. Got Me Movin' (Evvy)

_Anywhere you want, Leah. Anytime._

She'd woken up before him, and was lying staring at the ceiling, welcoming the chance to be alone with her thoughts.

The words had been ringing in her head ever since he'd uttered them the night before. They'd been there – with no further discussion - through another round of (surprisingly slow and gentle) sex in bed before sleep, and they were sure as hell still there this morning.

Her lizard brain was over the damn moon. Logan was a fantastic lover – dominant, confident, considerate, and the best bet for turning him on was to let him get her off, preferably repeatedly – and the idea that she could have that on a regular basis was, well, _pleasing_ , to say the least. Even looking at him now: he was sleeping on his stomach, the covers fallen to his waist, and just the sight of his naked torso, the muscles of his back – and the outline of the sheet over his amazing butt - made heat bloom between her legs.

 _But let's face it. Just having him in your bed isn't going to cut it, at this point.  
_

She sighed. He'd still been tight-lipped about himself, dropping small tidbits here and there, but she really didn't know a lot more about _him_ than she had last week. A few days of that wasn't necessarily a problem, but trust and relationships were a two-way street, and if this was going to work as anything but colleagues with benefits he was going to have to open up to her eventually.

Leah was no fool. Logan's brokenness was plain. He'd have to heal at his own pace.

And she wanted to be there for it.

 _Maybe this is all he wants, though. Maybe yesterday...and last night...were just flukes, and he's not really feeling like there's more...  
_

The idea was troubling. He'd grown so tender in only a few days; she remembered, with a smile, their first night together and how she'd had to work up the courage to cuddle up to him. No trace of that now; at night he was pulling her into his arms and wrapping himself around her as soon as they blew the candles out. Leah, who had always been a restless sleeper prone to lots of movement, was impressed by the novelty of waking up in the exact same position she'd fallen asleep in (although the heaviness of the limbs enfolding her might be having something to do with it).

He plainly loved her hair. He was constantly touching it, playing with it, smelling it. She was finding her hair ties in the oddest places, from when he'd come up behind her and undone it to run his hands through it. She'd thought about not bothering to do anything with it, but it was strangely delightful, feeling his hands unknotting her braid or ponytail or bun and smoothing out the long tresses, his fingers always managing to caress her neck in the process. Plus, he obviously enjoyed it.

She hiked herself up against the pillows into a sitting position, contemplating going downstairs to start coffee. Logan looked dead to the world, and a smile curved her lips as she gazed at him. _We were going to see if a week would get this out of our systems. Right. I have him three or four times a day and I still want him._

He stirred sleepily and reached out, a hand landing on her thigh. So much for dead to the world, but she'd noticed he was a light sleeper and tended to wake up quickly.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey." He reached out again, grasping for her waist, and she went very willingly into his arms. "What's up?"

"Just lying here thinking."

"Thinking, huh?" He spooned himself up behind her and she nestled her hips into the cradle of his lap, feeling a twitch at her backside. "Mmm. What about?"

"Not much." She lightly traced his forearm with her fingertips. "Since last night you said anywhere and anytime I want, I was making a list of places I'd like to have sex back at the school…"

She kept it light, trying to let him decide how far to go. She felt him smile against the back of her neck. "What's on the list so far?"

"Well, my bed, of course."

"Of course."

"Your bed."

"Mmhmm."

"My desk." Another twitch felt from her backside, and she was really intrigued by how excited the idea of fucking on her desk got him.

"I suppose your desk too – you do have one, right, since you're a professor?"

"Mmhmm." A light kiss on her neck, and she gasped as he caught skin between his teeth and lightly bit. "Don't use it much. Not a lot of stuff to get in the way."

Leah laughed. "Okay. Well, then…hmm. I hadn't gotten very far. Probably my greenhouses."

"All three of them?"

"Well, not all in the same day…" She traced his forearm again. "On the other hand, based on this week, I don't think that would present a problem."

He chuckled, and his hands started roaming, pulling up her shirt and lightly caressing her stomach. "Anything else?"

"I feel like we cheated that poor kitchen island." She grinned mischievously. "We should really go back there and finish what we started on it. Oh, and there's always the jet, we should definitely have sex in the jet."

His fingertips were sweeping across her skin – up to graze below her breasts, then down to the waistband of her pants. Leah squirmed - he wasn't going quite far enough in either direction – and Logan smiled.

"I've got a few things to add," he breathed into her ear. Leah instantly went liquid in his arms.

"Oh?"

"There's a broom closet right across the hall from your classroom."

"A broom closet. You want to have sex in a broom closet."

"Yeah. See, I've got my own fantasy about you, Leah…" He was still breathing into her ear, his voice low and gravelly and soft, and shit was it getting her wet.

"Do tell."

"I want to come up with some excuse and make you leave in the middle of your morning biology class. I want to take you into that broom closet and lock the door and then fuck the crap out of you against the wall. I want you biting my shoulder to keep from screaming when I make you come and then I want you going back to class still wet and smelling like me with your hair all messed up and trying to teach when you're thinking about my cock being inside you five minutes ago."

Holy _fuck._ She felt like she was about two seconds from coming _just from him talking._

"How long have you had that fantasy?" she managed.

"Oh, yeah. Figured that part out too," he murmured. "How long I've wanted you." His hand finally moved up and cupped her breast, and she moaned, arching into the warmth.

 _He's on the patio behind the staff kitchen for an evening smoke, the red ember of his cigar glowing._

 _The new biology professor – well, maybe not new, she's been around for two or three months, although he has just met her – is out in the kitchen garden, kneeling in the dirt. She'd been there when he came outside, but it doesn't seem like she's seen him._

 _It's the beginning of summer; tufts of green are arranged in neat rows where she has been planting. Trays are stacked along the side of the garden plot, plants she had started in the greenhouses and now has brought out. He recognizes maybe two or three of the plants she's working on; he and vegetables don't have a close relationship._

 _She stands, straightening and stretching. He's behind her, and from his vantage point, the simple denim cutoffs she's wearing are presenting him with an extremely attractive view. He admires the curves and takes a drag on his cigar._

 _She bends, taking off her rubber boots, and walks barefoot back into the dirt, kneeling again and plunging her hands into it. His keen eyes discern a faint green-gold glow from the soil around her fingers, although most probably wouldn't be able to tell._

 _He hears a creaking, almost a crunching sound, and the air explodes with the smell of new leaves and cut grass. She's helping the plants along, bringing them forward several weeks; new leaves, flowers, and buds are forming, young vegetables beginning to take shape. The roots are growing deep into the garden plot, ensuring a healthy harvest. The school will have gorgeous fresh produce all summer and fall long, thanks to Leah._

 _She pulls her hands from the soil and straightens, turning back around and beginning to collect her things. The fitted tank top she's wearing is also presenting him with an excellent view of the curves on her top half; again, he admires. He hadn't noticed when he'd met her – he was more focused on not wearing the tomato plant she was carrying – but the new professor is_ stacked _._

 _Her face is also interesting, hair back in a messy braid with strands falling out. She has a content, focused expression of deep satisfaction._

 _He blinks. He realizes he is wondering what else might put that expression on the new professor's face, and he feels a distinct desire to find out._

"Really? That long?"

"Mmhmm. Your ass looks un-fucking-believable in those shorts."

She laughed, although it was difficult to think when he was running a finger slowly in circles around her nipple, teasing it to peak. "I remember that evening. I couldn't figure out where that smoke smell was coming from."

"Now you know." He pushed his hips up against her bottom, letting her feel his erection. She arched back into him.

"Mmm…it'll be next summer before I can wear those shorts again."

He kissed her neck and slid his other hand into her pants. "Worth the wait."

She barely had time to digest the implication that this was going to continue till next summer, before his fingers moved lower - circling, stroking her clit gently, gliding. "You're always so wet for me, Leah…it's so fucking hot feeling it…"

Her only reply was a moan.

He threaded his fingers through the soft, damp flesh and slid one easily inside her. "God you're warm. So warm and so wet." Another finger slipped in. "Does it feel good when I do this?"

"Yes…fuck, yes, Logan, you know it does…"

"I want you to tell me," he growled in her ear. His teeth nipped her earlobe, and his fingers pumped in and out of her - once. "Do you like that?"

"Fuck, yes, I love it when you do that…"

He pressed his fingers deeper and crooked them, stroking her from the inside. "You're so beautiful, Leah, you're so goddamn beautiful when I've got you like this, when you can't think straight because of me touching you..."

His hand left her breast, sliding out from underneath her, and roped her hair around his fist, pulling her head back. His hand between her legs _wasn't moving_ and she _needed him to start moving right the hell now_ or she was going to lose it.

And when the hell had he become a dirty talker in bed? That was new.

She liked it.

His hand twisted and Leah gasped; he was maneuvering to get his thumb on her clit without pulling his fingers out, and he rubbed her in circles just the way she liked, moving his fingers in and out of her, and his cock was like granite behind her and the entire time he was growling in her ear about how good she felt, how beautiful she was and how he couldn't wait to be inside her…

She came apart in his arms, her hands clamping down on his arm and nails digging into his skin, but he didn't stop until he felt the spasms ease and her hold on his fingers inside her finally relax. As the climax ebbed, he was already easing her pants off and rolling her onto her stomach, arranging her the way he wanted. Her body was so replete that she was having trouble staying on her knees, but a stack of pillows took care of that, and then he was moving in her deliciously slowly, his hands stroking down her back, gripping her hips lightly and then stroking up again, and after a few minutes he pulled out, flipped her over, and she was half sitting up against the pillows as he entered her again, and she smiled up into his face, green eyes meeting dark hazel.

"If you stop I will kill you," she murmured.

"Not stopping."

And he didn't. Not for a long time.

* * *

After breakfast, she figured out where the dirty talk had come from.

Somehow, a gate had opened – she'd ask him about it later – and words tumbled out of him like a river.

Leah listened.

He told her about how the adamantium had wound up inside him; he told her about the government weapons program.

He told her about the pain he'd endured, and what had been done to his mind. He told her about the long journey back to sanity that he was still on.

And he told her about the war.

She listened in horrified silence and drained an entire bottle of wine as he talked about the sentinels, the friends he'd seen die that were now alive again, and the reconciliation of his memories with what was real now.

Her morbid curiosity (or maybe the wine) got the better of her. "Logan, I have to ask…"

He shook his head. "There was no you in that past. You hadn't found us."

She nodded slowly. "So, I was probably dead."

"Maybe not." His eyes were haunted. "You're useful. Word was, they kept some of the useful ones – the ones that they could make work for them."

Leah blanched and opened another bottle of wine. "I don't think that sounds any better, from what you're describing."

Logan knocked back his sixth glass of scotch. "Just glad I don't have to remember you dying."

"Me too." She took a deep swig straight from the bottle.

As she put it down, he grabbed her wrist, eyes fixed on her face. "Now you know. Hard for me to care about anyone when it seems like caring just gets them dead."

He'd told her about some – she assumed not all – of his past lovers, and her heart had broken for him never finding anything lasting. She turned her wrist in his grasp and clasped his hand. He looked at their entwined hands for a few minutes of eternity before looking back into her face, and her heart stopped at what she saw there.

"Hell. If you still want me and all of my fucked-up shit...you've got me, Leah."


	16. Something Just Like This (Coldplay)

The world froze. Her mouth had gone dry and she was having trouble breathing and was pretty sure her heart rate had doubled in the space of a second.

"Okay then."

 _Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck._

After everything he'd just told her, she probably owed him something better than that. She licked her lips and tried again.

"Yeah. Yes. _Yes._ Yes, yes, goddammit yes, I still want you. I want you driving me to the airport and I want you fucking me in the goddamn broom closet and I want you sitting next to me reading a book and playing with my fucking hair while I grade essays and – "

He cut her off by grabbing her face and kissing her so hard that his teeth cut her lip. She tasted blood and didn't care in the slightest, he was hauling her onto his lap and his arms felt like iron bands around her body, there was practically negative space between them with how tightly he was holding her…

He released her maybe half an inch. "Okay to all of that. And anything else you think of."

She rested her forehead against his. Her brain felt jumpy and electrified and ready to short out with everything that had happened in less than a day. "I feel like I should probably say it…that you've got me, too. If that's what you want."

He chuckled, low and soft. "Figured. Yeah. What I want is you. As much as you'll give me."

Leah let out a breath and offered him a real smile, wide and joyful and bright. "You can have as much as you want."

* * *

They were delirious the rest of the day.

He couldn't keep his hands off of her – even more than usual, he was constantly touching her, kissing her. She was pretty sure they hadn't been more than six feet away from each other all day. Leah's face hurt from smiling.

At one point late in the afternoon, they were standing in the kitchen, two mugs of coffee forgotten on the counter, thoroughly wrapped up in yet another long kiss.

"I could do this all day," she whispered against his lips.

"We have."

They both laughed, and Logan stroked his hand through her hair. "Leah."

"Hmm?"

"This is…we're…" He growled, frustrated at words. "Look. I don't share, okay? So this…us…it's just gonna be you and me, right?"

She tilted her head back, looking him straight in the eye. "Yes. I'm not sharing you, either. Just us."

 _Boyfriend? Partner? Whatever.  
_

She was smiling like a loon again, and her cheeks were _really_ starting to hurt, but she was finding it hard to care as she turned back to the counter and the salad she'd been in the middle of making to go with dinner. He wasn't interested in letting go, and stepped up behind her, fingers tracing down her sides to her hips. Leah shivered and felt his mouth lightly touch her neck.

"More vegetables," he murmured, eyeing the pile for the salad, as well as the bowl of carrots, broccoli, and snap peas she'd mixed together and seasoned with basil and thyme for roasting. They'd worked out a system for dinner of Logan generally being in charge of meat, and Leah making side dishes - which had resulted, sure enough, in a noticeable increase in the amount of vegetables he was eating. Leah laughed.

"They're good for you."

He chuckled, kissing her neck again. " _You're_ good for me."

"Well, you can't eat me for dinner, so..."

She almost dropped her knife as she realized what she'd said. And when she turned around, the look on his face told her that Logan had _definitely_ understood the unintentional double meaning in her words...and that he liked the thought.

She laughed as his fingers traced the waist of her jeans and pulled her hips against him. "Hold on there...I'm hungry, so I'm going to vote for actual food for dinner..."

"Hmmm." He nuzzled her neck again. "If I eat all my vegetables, do I get dessert?"

"Oh, I'd say that's entirely fair..."

* * *

He pushed his empty plate across the table at her.

Leah swallowed hard, slowly setting her fork down, her plate also empty. "Looks like someone earned dessert..."

"Mmhmm. We should clean up first, though."

"Oh?"

"Well, when I grew up...you still eat dessert at the table."

She blinked and suddenly found it very hard to think. "That...seems logical..."

In silence, they worked together to clean up, Leah at the sink washing and Logan drying. And when the dishes were done and the counters wiped down, he slowly turned her around and led her back to the table.

She could feel her heart pounding as he looked at her, and the buttons of her shirt felt tighter as she breathed more heavily.

"Take your pants off."

 _Oh, this is new._

He normally liked undressing her, but apparently was in a mood to instruct and observe. Her fingers shook slightly as she unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off, kicking them to the side.

"Now your shirt."

More buttons, and her shirt falling to the floor to join her jeans, leaving her in black bra and panties.

"That's good."

She couldn't help smiling as he kept staring at her. His hand reached out, fingertips touching just below her bra and trailing down slowly, tracing the faint outlines of her stomach muscles and then lower, brushing the waist of her panties.

"Get on the table, Leah."

She hopped up, sitting on the edge.

"Lie down."

She reclined back, the cool smooth wood of the table against her skin, looking up at him as he leaned over her.

"Reach back. Over your head. Grab the edge."

She did. He nodded.

"Don't let go."

"Logan..."

"Shhh." He laid a finger against her lips. "I'm enjoying my dessert."

He lifted her braid and slowly untied it, combing her hair out loose, and his hand moved easily from there to her breasts, lightly smoothing over their shape and then down, back on her stomach, tracing the muscles again. She felt heat between her legs at the light touch, and the way he'd been talking to her, and oh yeah, the fact that she was lying in her underwear on a table for him to _eat dessert_...

Holy shit. She'd never be able to say that phrase again with a straight face.

He hooked a chair with his foot and brought it over, settling down as he dragged his hands down her body, catching her panties along the way and pulling them off down her legs. When his hands came back, they were nudging her thighs apart, guiding her to hook her legs over his elbows.

 _Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit..._

He made her wait for it, and she almost screamed at the light kisses on her inner thighs and lower abdomen. His tongue traced a path down from her belly button, stopping just above where she wanted him to be.

"Logan..."

His fingers were wandering again, and she felt the tips brushing between her legs. She whimpered.

"Logan, please..."

"Dessert's my favorite part. I'm gonna savor it. Nice and slow."

 _Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit._

Given his comments about slow, she wasn't prepared for the sudden, firm swipe of his tongue across her, glancing over her clit, and she jerked, crying out.

"Fuck, you taste good, Leah...you always taste so good..."

"Fantastic..."

He gave her a little more, then - licking slowly over her, fingers parting the soft folds to create a path for his tongue to move, down and then up, tasting every inch. Every time she thought he was going to speed up, he slowed down, or stopped entirely, removing his mouth and tracing lightly with his fingertips. She was moaning continuously by the time he circled her clit with the tip of his tongue and slipped a finger into her at the same time, moving it in and out slowly as his tongue circled, and she gripped the table harder, afraid she was going to break it but not caring. Another finger pushed into her and she jerked again and swore, one long stream of words as she climaxed, broken up by gasps of his name.

She sat up as the orgasm ebbed, and looked down at the top of his head between her legs. "Holy shit."

He was still lightly touching her, smiling at how it made her shiver. "Makes eating vegetables worth it."

She laughed, catching her breath. "Logan?"

"Hmm?"

"Take your pants off."

He smiled at the command, and stood and unbuckled his belt, shoving everything down, but when he made to step between her legs she put a hand up. "No. Sit back down."

He did, brows up, but his confusion quickly dissipated as Leah stood and straddled his lap on the chair. "I want _my_ dessert now."

He groaned as she settled down and took him in, his hands moving over the curve of her spine from lower back to butt and gripping her there. "Leah...fuck, Leah..."

"That's the idea," she breathed, and grabbed the back of the chair.

She took charge, commanded the pace, timing both their pleasure, and reduced him to swearing and groaning her name well before they were done, his hands clenched in her hair and his voice only stopped by deep, messy kisses, and she'd managed both of them well enough that they reached the peak at the same time. She clenched the chair tighter and heard the wood creak and screamed, throwing her head back as he groaned deeply enough that she felt the floor vibrate, his fingers raking down her sides.

Neither of them moved until Leah slowly let go of the back of the chair, and leaned back to look at him.

He smiled. "Not sure that doesn't count as both of us getting two desserts, but fuck if I'm complaining..."

She laughed.

* * *

Two days later, they were up with the sun, setting an alarm for the first time in a week in order to get an early start back to the school…but not _too_ early.

Priorities, after all.

He was on top, sliding in and loving the sigh of contentment she breathed in his ear at the feel of him inside her.

"We won't have time for this in the morning anymore…"

"Sure we will. Just have to move the alarm back." He pinned her wrists to the bed, pushing harder with his hips, and she gasped. "You really want to go back to starting your day without this?"

She liked the way he thought.

* * *

Afterwards, they dressed and worked together to close up the cabin, packing up the leftovers and the laundry to take back to the school. The snow had melted to less than a three-inch depth, and they were expecting an easy – if long - drive back.

Leah tossed the cloth laundry bag into the bed of the truck. "Next thing you need to add is a washing machine."

He was kneeling by the hot pool, securing the tarp cover tightly. "Thought about it awhile ago, but never seemed to be that important. Now, maybe, with you coming up with me…"

She wandered over, leaning against the side of the cabin. "Yeah, on that note, when are we coming back?"

Logan chuckled, standing up. "Had a good time?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Just a little. So?"

"Maybe in a couple months? During the holiday break? Drive's so long, doesn't make sense to come up just for a weekend. Might be awhile before we can leave for this long again." He slid an arm around her waist as they headed back inside. "Soon, though."

* * *

They pulled back up to the mansion in the late afternoon. Logan backed the truck up to the garage to make it easier to unload, and they started with taking the leftover food and alcohol into the kitchen.

When they came back out, Hank was standing by the truck. "Logan. Leah. Safe trip?"

"Yeah, thanks Hank." Leah reached for her bag, but Logan got there first, pulling it out over the side of the truck. His free hand touched the small of her back as he handed it to her and grabbed his own bag, and the bag with the laundry.

Hank raised an eyebrow. "Anything I can help with?"

"Put the truck away for me?" Hank nodded, and Logan tossed him the keys. As he climbed into the cab, he watched the two of them walk away, Logan's hand still on Leah's back.

Hank grinned.

* * *

Inside, Logan dropped the bags in his room and then followed Leah upstairs to the third floor, watching as she unlocked the door to her suite. She went in and tossed her bag on the bed, and then stretched, hands on the small of her back. "Oof. You're right. That's a heck of a drive."

Logan stood in the middle of her front room, surveying the cozy suite. "This is nice."

"I moved up here after Ororo and I started doing more work for the government." She gestured to the computer and desk in the corner of the front room. "I normally work downstairs, but sometimes it's a little easier to have privacy."

He walked over to her and put his hands on her waist. "We didn't talk about rooms."

Leah's brow furrowed. "Honestly? I think it's a little early to share." She bit her lip. "But sleeping – I mean like actual sleeping - with you is really nice."

"No reason we can't do both. Keep our separate rooms but sleep in one most nights."

She grinned. "I kind of like the idea of you sneaking up here after everyone else is in bed."

"Who said anything about sneaking?" He drew her closer. "Doesn't matter to me who sees."

"When you put it that way…"

In a way, it felt like their first kiss as their lips met – their first back in reality, back to their normal lives with the newness of _them_. After far too brief a time, Leah let go from where her hands had clutched the lapels of his jacket.

"I should really go look at the greenhouses," she murmured. "Back to real life, right?"

"Yeah." He stroked a hand over her hair. "Well…"

She laughed. "Yeah, I don't know how to do this either. I mean, we sort of live together. How do we "date"?"

Logan wrapped his arms around her in a quick, hard bear hug. "We'll figure it out."

"Um…why don't you come over to the greenhouses right before dinner? We can…walk together?"

"I like that." He kissed her again quickly, then more thoroughly. Leah hummed with contentment into his mouth, then gently pushed him off her.

"Later!"

* * *

She'd thought there would be an adjustment period. That it'd take awhile for the gossip on their partnership to filter through the mansion; that there would be time to get used to _them_ before the whole school knew.

Nope.

The noise level in the cafeteria dropped noticeably when they walked in together, heading for the staff table. As the curious eyes followed them, she felt his hand touch the small of her back – just a light brush, but so very open and visible.

And then they found two chairs together at the staff table, and he slung his arm over the back of hers the minute they were both sitting down.

 _Well, here we go._

And the redhead at the end of the table looked like she'd swallowed a lemon.

* * *

A week after they'd gotten back, Leah was in her classroom cleaning up after her morning lecture, when she sensed she was being watched. She looked up at the visitor…and inwardly sighed.

 _I could have done with a few more days before dealing with this. Or maybe a month. Or a year._

"Hi, Jean," she offered. "What's up?"

The other woman slowly stepped into the empty classroom. "Nothing. I just thought I'd see how you were doing."

"Fine." Leah smiled. "How are you?" _Besides irritated at me. And irritated that you're irritated._

Jean sighed. "To be honest, I'm a little worried about you."

"Oh?"

"It's just…Logan can be a handful. I just wonder if you know what you're getting into."

 _Memory: Back at the cabin, the night before they come back to the school. They've blown out the candles and blindfolded each other. Every touch is like fire on her skin, so much more intense without sight. By the time their bodies join, she's begging him to take her…_

Leah swallowed, pulling herself out of the memory, and looked up at Jean. The stricken expression on the telepath's face was painful. _I think she probably caught some of that. Oops._ "I think I have a good idea."

"Do you? Do you know what's been done to him?"

With great difficulty, Leah restrained herself. What she really wanted to say was _Yes, you twat, I know exactly what's been done to him, and I know exactly what_ I _spent last week – and this week – doing to him. And with him. And what he's been doing to me._

Instead, she took a deep breath, and set her paperwork down. "Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you, Jean? Because I think I have a pretty good idea. News flash: You don't get to have everything."

"I just don't want you to get hurt…"

"You're full of shit."

"Fine, then." Jean glared at her. "If you know already, what do you want me to say? That I hate you, and I know I shouldn't?"

"It'd be a start," Leah muttered.

Jean recovered from the momentary loss of control, her features smoothing. "I'm sorry. I do hate you, and I know it isn't fair to you."

"...okay?"

"You're right, you know." She smiled ruefully. "I wanted to have everything. I knew it wouldn't last…but I was hoping it would."

With that, she turned and walked out.

Leah stood there blinking for a moment. _Oh, for fuck's sake._

Slowly, she gathered her paperwork and slipped it into her leather satchel. She was pissed off, and needed to do something about it, and she knew Logan was teaching still and didn't want to vent to him about this anyway.

 _I could go bug Hank. I could go lift some weights, although I don't really have time. I could grow something..._

 _I wonder if Charles would mind a couple more trees in the back._


	17. Radioactive (Pentatonix&LindsayStirling)

"I'm not sure where you're going with this, Hank."

"Hear me out. There are living things in the air all around us, right?"

"Right…"

"Mold spores. Bacteria. Viruses."

"Gross…"

"You can affect those!"

Leah raised an eyebrow. "I'm really not following you."

"Okay. Let's try this out practically. Find some mold."

"No!"

"Please? I really think we're onto something here."

"You're on something, that's for sure," she grumbled. "Fine."

Leah extended her hands and felt out in the air. She hadn't really thought about it before, but Hank was right – living things all around her. _Ew!_ Okay – concentrate. Mold, right?

There.

"Got it," she murmured. "Now what?"

"Can you grow a ball of it?"

Leah's eyes snapped open. "This is absolutely disgusting."

Hank sighed. "Leah…you owe me."

"What?"

"Kitchen."

Oh. That.

She stopped complaining and focused on the mold. "It might get a little dry in here…"

 _The mold is odd to work with. It's eager to grow, but is grouchy at the brightness of the lights in Hank's lab. But there is plenty of moisture in the air, and it obliges her in the end, blossoming as she wants…_

She opened her eyes and looked at the small greenish-blackish-tan ball hovering above her palm. "Oh my god."

Hank clapped his hands. "Yes! It's what I thought. Now throw it at me."

"What?!"

Hank studied the little ball intently. "I think this is how you can use your powers on offense in combat. Allergies are all about quantity of exposure; we aren't allergic to the little tiny bits of mold and dust that are floating around, but if you can grow a large amount of it, you could easily incapacitate whole groups of people at a time."

"I am not throwing something at you that's going to give you an allergic reaction."

"It's okay. I have an antihistamine ready." He pointed at the syringe sitting next to him on the lab table. "Throw it."

Leah shook her head, sighing. "Okay…but for the record, I think this is a bad idea…"

She threw the little mold ball straight into Hank's face.

He sneezed. And sneezed.

Leah watched with alarm as his eyes started watering, and he started to cough. He took a deep breath, and before another coughing fit could start, jabbed himself with the syringe.

He looked perversely excited as the allergy symptoms began to fade. "I was right!"

Leah slowly sank down onto a stool. "Hank…"

"What?"

"It's not just mold in the air," she murmured. "There are all kinds of things, like you said. I could give someone a cold just as easily…or the flu. Or something worse."

Hank leaned on the lab table. "Nothing says you have to use your powers that way. Just knowing that you can, if you had to – doesn't that make you feel safer?"

"No!" She stopped, considered. "Yes, but…Hank, I really don't know if I could ever do that."

"If it was your life at stake?" He paused. "Or Logan's?"

She shot him a look. "Don't even joke about that."

"Okay, okay." He raised his hands. "Look, I have another idea that might make you feel better."

"Exactly how much time have you spent thinking about my powers?"

"Well, you were gone for a week. I had time."

"So what's the other idea?"

Hank rolled his sleeve up. "Small accident this morning – I've got a first degree burn. Nothing major. But I want you to see if you can fix it. I think you might be able to use your growth powers to heal other people – it's the same principle, after all, just cell division…"

Leah regarded the small red spot on Hank's arm. "I've…never tried anything like that. Don't you think it'd be safer on…I don't know…a mouse or something?"

"Let's try this." He extended his arm. "Don't do anything yet, just see what you can feel."

The idea _was_ making her feel better. "All right."

She laid her fingertips on Hank's arm and closed her eyes.

And fell off her stool.

"Holy shit!"

Hank shot out of his chair. "Leah?"

She rubbed her head, slowly getting back to her feet. "Ow. It's okay…it was just…a lot. You're, um, a little more complicated than a plant."

"Okay." He breathed out a sigh of relief as Leah sat back down. "Do you want to try again?"

"Yeah." She reached her hand out again.

 _This time she's prepared for the rush of sensation. She narrows her focus, looking very specifically for the_ wrongness _close to her, right there –_

 _She finds it._

 _The feeling is entirely different. When she works with plants, there is a sense of harmony. This is strange, alien – it's another_ person _involved. She doesn't like this._

 _She breathes, trying to relax, and focuses on the_ wrong.

"I've got it, Hank," she said. "I see it."

"Okay. Do you think you can fix it? Go slow. Take your time."

 _She is about to throw up from how odd this feels. She forces the nausea down and pushes back towards the_ wrong, _the burn. The damaged cells are as bright as neon to her senses. She extends farther, finding the nearest unburned skin._

 _There._

 _As soon as she begins working, the bizarre wrongness fades. The body recognizes that she's here to help. Just like she would with a plant, she encourages the cells to divide, but works much more slowly and carefully. They know what to do – the new copies replace the damaged parts seamlessly._

 _She can tell when it's done. The nausea comes back; her work is finished._

She opened her eyes and coughed, reflexively, fighting the urge to vomit. "Ugh."

Hank examined his arm, where no trace of the burn remained. "You did it."

"Yeah…I did." She shook her head. "That was…unpleasant."

"What was it like?"

"Like…" She shook her head again. "You definitely did _not_ want me there. I was an intruder." She shuddered. "I think I'll stick to plants."

"Maybe with practice it'll get better?"

"Maybe. I don't know if I want to find out."

"It might have been too much to start with." Hank nodded. "We'll try something smaller next time."

Leah sighed. "Can't I just stick to plants?"

Hank shrugged. "You can if you want, but I thought you'd be happy about this if it worked. It's balance. You found out that you can hurt people way more than you thought, but also that you can help people more."

"Yeah…I guess." She took a breath. "We can try something smaller. But not tonight."

"Of course. Tea?"

"Please."

He brought the mugs over, and she wrapped her hands around hers gratefully and sipped. "Thank you."

"So…" Hank smiled. "Should we talk about something else? Anything _exciting_ happening in your life?"

Leah rolled her eyes. "I _know_ you don't want to hear about that."

"Well, no, but I thought it was polite to ask. And all joking aside, I'm very happy for you."

"Thank you." She sipped the tea. "It's…different. And not everyone's happy about it."

"You mean Jean?" A look was confirmation enough. Hank sighed. "I can't say I'm surprised. I spoke to her while you were gone, encouraged her to try to be happy for him."

"Yeah…I don't think that helped. She tracked me down in my classroom last week. It was…bizarre."

"Well, be that as it may, I do also think that Jean is one person. And if I know you at all, you won't let one person wreck this for you."

"Hell, no." Leah grinned. "It may have come out of nowhere, but I'm not letting it go now. She can fume all she wants. But seriously, Hank – that is some fucked up shit."

"You said it better than I ever could." Hank sipped his own tea. "This – what happened with you - was the only way that whole situation was ever going to really resolve itself without hurting everyone involved. To be honest, I'd mostly given up on it and just hoped nothing would change."

"I just hope she's not going to force anyone to take sides. She and Ororo are close…"

"I think you'll find that Ororo is far more mature than that. I would be very surprised if anyone except Jean was upset." He winked. "Perhaps some of the teenage students that were harboring unrequited crushes on Professor Logan or Doctor Hamilton."

She laughed. "I hope you're right."

Leah drained the rest of her tea and rose. "I should probably head upstairs. It's getting late." She paused. "I'll…we can try something smaller tomorrow. You're right. If it's something I can do, I should try."

* * *

Logan was sprawled on her couch when she walked into her rooms, reading through student papers with a beer in his hand. "Hey." He smiled at her, then did a double take, seeing something in her face. "You all right?"

She scrubbed her face with her hands, kicking the door shut behind her with a foot. "I don't know."

He shot to his feet, crossing the room and pulling her into his arms. "What happened?"

"Can we sit?"

"Yeah." He steered her over to the couch, sitting down next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Tell me."

Leah sighed, already feeling better just from the physical contact. She curled her legs under her, leaning into his side. "Hank had some… _ideas…_ about my powers, that he came up with while we were gone. We tried them out tonight."

"And?"

"Logan…" She chewed her lip. "I always thought I knew what kind of person I was. I'm a helper. I fix things. I deal with _life._ "

"How did that change in one night?"

"Hank…He thought I could grow things from the air. We tried it with mold. Allergies." She stared into his eyes. " _I hurt him."_

He could feel her trembling, and slowly smoothed his hands down her back. "Was that it?"

"No. He also thought I could heal. We tried it on his arm – it was a small burn. And it worked."

"Well, that's better, yeah?"

"It is, but…" She cuddled closer to him. "It was weird. I'm going to practice. But all I can think about is…what if I don't like someone and just decide to give them a cold? I hate even having the option to hurt. Physical fighting is different, this is something else..."

"Leah…" He looked down into her face, stroking his hand through her hair. "I know what kind of person you are. I don't think you have to worry about misusing your powers."

She took a deep breath, scrubbing her face again. "Thanks. I just…I guess I'm having an identity crisis right now. I thought I knew my powers, knew everything about them." She grimaced. "Goddammit, Hank."

Logan chuckled and dropped a kiss on Leah's lips. "You probably aren't the only person to ever think that."

She leaned her head against his chest, relaxing as he kept stroking her hair. "You're very good at this."

"At what?"

"Being comforting."

He barked a laugh. "Pretty sure you're the first person to ever tell me that."

She stretched up and kissed him again, and then once more, and again for good measure, lightly running her tongue over his lip. His arms tightened around her. "See? There's your proof; how much better I'm feeling…"


	18. If It Makes You (Bo Deans)

_December_

"Doctor Hamilton!"

Leah stopped, turning to face the student who was running down the hall to catch her. "What is it, Tina?"

The girl was holding a handful of paper. "Could you give this to Professor Logan for me please?"

"Tina, wait – no – "

"Thanks!"

In an instant, Tina had flung the papers on top of the poinsettia that Leah was carrying, and raced away.

Leah sighed and smiled, shifting the poinsettia to one arm and collecting the papers. The students – both hers and Logan's - had started playing this game about a month ago with late assignments, figuring that giving their work to their professor's partner might gain them a little forgiveness. So far it hadn't worked, but that wasn't stopping them from trying.

"Leah!"

Scott was standing on a stepladder hanging garland around the entrance to the ballroom as she approached. "They need you in there."

She grinned and hefted the poinsettia, walking into the ballroom, where the majority of the staff were working on decorating for the winter party. Ororo was hovering near the ceiling hanging more lights and garlands; Marie and Bobby were setting up tables and chairs around the dance floor; Kitty was up on Piotr's shoulders hanging streams of silver tinsel in the windows.

Family.

Leah set down her poinsettia – and Tina's homework - next to where Marie was unfolding more chairs, adding it to the pile she'd already brought in. "That's the last of them."

"Ya gonna grow them more?"

"Yep." Leah smiled. "Once they're in place. They'll get heavy. Scott said someone needed me?"

Marie gestured. "Ororo needs more garland, she was hopin'…"

"Oh, yeah."

She crossed the ballroom, waving at Ororo and calling up to the other woman. "How much more?"

"Several feet, please."

Leah grabbed the end of the garland, which – fortunately – was still alive, and stuck in a bucket of water. "Tell me when to stop!"

She finished with the garland just in time to see Logan and Hank coming in the door carrying two enormous pine trees. She clapped her hands in delight. "They look great!"

The trees were more than ten feet tall and lush with blue-green growth. She'd been working on them, and the other four that were still outside, for a month. Hank sighed as they put the trees down and started to walk them up into position.

"Leah, I know you wanted to show off, but could you maybe have restrained yourself a little?" Piotr had put Kitty down and was walking over to help, the sheer height of the trees challenging even men as strong as Logan and Hank.

"Where's the fun in that? They're going to look amazing."

The three men got the trees into position at the same time Scott came back into the ballroom, having finished with the garland at the entrance. "Nice, Leah."

She shot Hank a look. "See?!"

A hand lightly brushed the small of her back, and Leah relaxed into her partner's touch. "Don't listen to Hank. They look great." Logan smirked at the other man and raised his voice. "He's just bitching 'cause of the needles."

"Oh, I'm Logan, I have a healing factor, I don't have to worry about scratches…"

Leah interrupted the banter. "Are you guys going to go get the rest of them? We need to start decorating."

"Sure." Logan's hand rested on her back for another moment, fingers lightly stroking. "Piotr? Scott? Lend a hand."

"Oh, hey – Tina gave me her homework for you." She chuckled. "It's over by the poinsettias."

Logan laughed. "I've got work from Mitchell and Diana for you. Left it upstairs."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you think they're ever going to figure out that this whole game isn't helping them at all?"

"I think they're just scared of you."

"Me?! Look in the mirror sometime!"

He ran a hand over her hair and went to join the other men heading outside.

 _This is home. This is family._

Even Logan and Scott – with the aid of a lot of alcohol – had buried the hatchet a couple of weeks ago, in the spirit of the holidays…

 _She has a look when she is leaving for a commission, and Logan freezes in the foyer of the mansion. He hasn't seen it in a while, and definitely not since they've gotten more involved; lately, Leah has been taking more government projects and fewer from private entities._

 _In full Demeter mode – Demeter that the companies that hire her see – she is absolutely stunning. Today she is wearing a green jacket with stripes of gold and bronze on the cuffs, over a black shell and slim black pants. Her neck is bare, but gold flashes on her wrists and ears: matching bracelets and earrings in a vine filigree style. A discreet gold "X" pin is attached to her lapel._

 _Her hair is swept up in an elegant chignon and her face is made up in shades of gold and bronze. It's turning him on in a huge way, especially since he is still having a lot of trouble in general looking at her without thinking about her naked…_

 _Leah, Demeter, stops right in front of him and smiles. He bristles, not liking the thought of anyone else seeing her this way._

 _He doesn't realize how far the bristling has gone until he feels a hand gently smoothing down the hair at the back of his neck, and a bark of pain from his knuckles makes him notice that his claws are out. He blows out a breath. "Sorry."_

" _It's okay." She is still smiling. "Are you?"_

" _Yeah." He exhales again. "I think I should go with you."_

" _The way you look right now, I'd be worried about you disemboweling someone if they looked at me too long." She chuckles, touching his hand. The claws slowly retract. "I'll be back soon."_

" _Good," he murmurs. "We have plans tonight."_

" _We do?"_

 _He steps in and leans down, lips brushing her ear. "I'm taking your clothes off and tying you to the bed until you can't remember your own name."_

 _Leah blushes, smiles. "It's a date."_

 _She moves to step around him, but he catches her wrist. "One more thing before you go…"_

 _He swings her around to the wall and steps forward, pressing his body firmly against hers and bracing his elbow on the wood paneling. His other hand splays out over her backside and pulls her hips into his. "I want you smelling like me," he growls, low and sultry in her ear, and nips it._

 _Leah takes a deep breath, inhaling his musky scent that is, sure enough, getting on her clothes, and human men might not know what exactly they are smelling but they will definitely get a sense of_ territory _. He leans down and brushes her lips with his, and it's so tempting, he knows she'll be upset if he musses her up but he wants to taste her…_

" _Jesus!"_

 _They both turn at Scott's yelp._

" _For god's sake, you guys, it's been over a month and you're still this bad? Could you at least_ try _and behave when people have to see?"_

 _Logan doesn't move. He doesn't let her, either. Leah rolls her eyes._

" _Not gonna complain if she can't keep her hands off me, Scott," he drawls. "I'm feeling great. But you look a little tense…"_

 _Leah sighs audibly. "Children?"_

 _It's like they're on a different planet for all the attention they pay. "Mind your own business, Logan."_

" _Well, I was, until you barged in…"_

" _Children!" They both stop and look startled at Leah's shout. "I am going to be late. If you still want to compare dick sizes, you can do it after I leave. Logan…" She reaches up and brushes their lips together again, because, well, Scott_ can _be an ass at times._

 _Like, apparently, right now._

" _Hey, Logan? I mean, props, man, you've managed to act like a human being for a whole month, but how long can you keep this up? Isn't that what usually happens? You'll fuck up and then she'll go find someone better?"_

 _Logan growls and his claws shoot out. Thankfully, he's remembered to let go of Leah first, but her fury is rising to match his, and she plants her hands in his chest and shoves. Surprised more than anything else, he stumbles back, but Leah isn't mad at him._

 _She's just getting him out of the way._

 _Her left hook lands solidly on Scott's jaw. It is a textbook-perfect punch, with her legs braced firmly and extra power coming from a strong rotation of her hips. And Scott goes down like a ton of bricks._

" _You are an asshole," she informs him quietly. Logan stifles a laugh and Leah glares at him. "Shut up. You aren't blameless in this mess between the two of you either."_

 _She turns back to Scott, who is showing sense and staying hunched over on the floor. "The next time you feel the need to comment on my business? Do yourself a favor. Don't."_

 _She grabs her purse from the floor, where it fell as Logan had pulled her to him, and storms out the front door._

 _Logan looks from the open door, where outside Leah is currently slamming the door of the mansion's black Lexus and roaring off, back to Scott._

 _There is really only one thing to do, here._

 _Logan extends a hand._

* * *

 _Two hours later, she pulls into the garage, much calmer. The sizable commission she's just earned might have something to do with it, and also, the good to her spirit from stopping at the Westchester community garden and giving it a little help…_

 _She avoids the front door and heads for the side entrance through the staff kitchen instead. She isn't quite ready to talk to Logan yet, and is pretty sure that she'll wind up punching Scott again if she sees him and he opens his mouth._

Well, shit.

 _Both of the men she'd been hoping to avoid are in the staff kitchen._

 _Sitting at the table._

… _.together?_

 _Logan is leaning back in his chair, a pile of beer bottles in front of him. Scott, with a smaller pile, is face down on the table, his hand wrapped around the neck of one bottle._

 _Leah's jaw hits the floor._

 _Logan looks up, hearing the click of her heels on the tile floor. He is wearing something close to a fond smile, but it falls off of his face and is replaced with worry._

" _Leah?" he says softly._

 _She gestures at the two of them wordlessly. Logan chuckles. "Buried the hatchet. The beer helped."_

 _Abruptly, Scott sits up. What she hasn't seen until now is the bag of frozen peas that his jaw had been resting on._ Oops. Sorry, not sorry.

" _Leah!" He points at her. Christ, how much has he had? "Hey. 'M'sorry 'bout earlier. You were right. 'M' an asshole s'metimes. Seriously. Happy for you guys. Li'l jealous too." He falls back on the frozen peas and mumbles a few more unintelligible sentences._

 _She raises an eyebrow at Logan. "What the fuck. He's jealous?"_

" _Not about you. More like how fun it is when everything's new."_

" _He has a hell of a way of showing it."_

" _Listen, Leah…" Logan stands up. "Scott and I made our peace. Part of that was admitting that he was mostly right. I do fuck up a lot. I'm shit at relationships. But I think…I think you and me are figuring it out."_

 _She sighs. "I guess I can't be mad at him if you aren't. But he's still kind of a dick."_

" _No argument here."_

" _In that case...want to help me wake him up? If you guys are making nice now, I suppose I should fix his jaw."_

Leah sighed happily as she went to help Kitty with the boxes of stuff for the trees.

* * *

She'd pled a headache to Scott to skip the decorating party, but the truth was, she couldn't face her friends when everyone was so happy for the holidays.

It'd been a month. A whole month since she'd started stealing.

Although, stealing wasn't really the right word for it. She couldn't _take_ anything. Any holes, anything missing, would be noticed sooner or later.

Jean likened what she did to smelling a meal at another table in a restaurant. She got the essence of it without actually tasting any of the food.

Although that wasn't really right either.

It'd happened by accident, the first time. She'd been walking down the hall past Leah, who was apparently attempting to ignore her as much as possible, and then – suddenly – she was _in._

 _She's lying face down on a bed, feeling large, warm hands working on the base of her spine._ Jean _is confused, but the memory isn't; the hands are supposed to be there. The memory is relaxed._

 _A hand runs over her bottom and she realizes she's naked, feeling sheets underneath all of her bare skin. She hears a laugh._

" _This has to be our little secret," she hears. Leah's voice, amused. "I don't think I want to share this talent of yours with anyone."_

 _Now she knows whose head she's in. She feels the hands slide down Leah's body; Leah rolls over and_ Jean _sees him – Logan, shirtless and in loose sweats, his hands slick with some sort of oil that she now notices on Leah's skin._

Jean _is not surprised by his skill. Logan is so strong – she would expect him to be good at backrubs. What is surprising is that he is performing this tender task for someone. For Leah._

 _His face – as Leah rolls over,_ Jean _sees his face, and he's looking so happy and content in this private moment with her that_ Jean's _heart breaks._

 _She feels his touch sliding up Leah's thigh. Leah sighs, her arms going around him as he moves on top of her…_

She had jolted out of the memory and realized she was standing in the center of the hall, cheeks flaming, with several students looking very curiously at her. Fortunately, Leah hadn't noticed.

That had been the start.

Jean figured out very quickly that Leah had no idea of the accidental glimpse she'd had of her memory. And it had been so easy to make those glimpses happen on purpose.

She took a little sip every evening, usually, around dinnertime when they were all assembled. She'd focus on Leah and just _open_ , and see what she got.

It was just a little taste, she told herself. A taste of what she couldn't have. She had enough control to realize she couldn't push for the memories – one of the other psychics would definitely notice – but just being there, watching? Well, that left no trace at all. No harm done.

A small part of her realized that this was extremely sick and that she needed to stop. Now.

But it was a very small part.


	19. The Fighter (Gym Class Heroes)

**Author's note: I thought I owed you all a bit of fluff after the creepyJean crap from the last chapter (I'M SORRY but it needed to be in there – trust me!), so here you go!** **-PC**

 **PS: A special, and HUGE, thanks to Beth and to orangeporqupine for being the best regulars ever and leaving reviews on *every* new chapter. Reviews, even just a sentence or two, really do make me smile and give me great motivation to keep writing, so if you've got a sec, please do consider leaving a comment for me. THANK YOU!**

* * *

Charles surveyed the group of students gathered in the Danger Room's observation area.

"Right, with the combination of the party this evening and the winter holiday beginning tomorrow, most of your professors have given up on holding your attention today. Therefore, we have a special demonstration planned for you as an analytical exercise."

He gestured to the side, where Hank, Logan, Leah, and Ororo were dressed in combat gear and waiting.

"Your teachers will be engaging in practice fights with one another. Most will not be exercising their full capabilities, but this is an excellent opportunity for you to learn to assess strengths and vulnerabilities. We'll begin with Professor Logan and Doctor Hamilton.

"Is everyone familiar with both sets of abilities in play here?" There was silence from the class; a few nods. "Very well then. Would anyone like to offer an opinion as to who has the advantage in an unarmed fight?"

"Doctor Hamilton. Because if Professor Logan beats her, she'll make him sleep on the couch."

The class laughed, especially at the sight of Leah turning to Logan and giving him a "well, now that you mention it…" look. Charles smiled.

"As amusing as it may seem, Mitchell raises an excellent point. Personal connections can indeed impact fights. It may be as simple as a small distraction, but if you have such knowledge, you should not ignore it. However, let us assume in this case that Professor Logan is fully prepared to deal with the personal consequences of his decisions and is going to fight to win. Anyone else?"

"Professor Logan is stronger than Doctor Hamilton."

"Correct. He also has a weight advantage of over 150 pounds. Can anyone think of why this might not be as significant as it appears?"

"If he outweighs her by that much, Doctor Hamilton is probably faster and more agile."

"Also correct." Charles smiled again as the students began to get into the spirit of the exercise. "Also remember that Doctor Hamilton's bones can break. Professor Logan's cannot. What else should be considered?"

The class was silent for a moment. Charles nodded. "This is an excellent place to start, and one which is very commonly encountered: strength and weight against speed and agility. Now, in this particular case, Professor Logan has a handicap: he will not be using his claws. Given all of these factors, can you make a guess as to who is likely to win?"

"Probably Professor Logan." The girl who had spoken shot an apologetic glance at Leah. "Sorry, Doctor Hamilton."

"Nah. My money's on Doctor Hamilton. She's faster, she'll wear him out."

The class devolved, clearly taking sides, until one student raised her hand. "In the exercise, what are the criteria for winning?"

Charles pointed. "Excellent question. How can you evaluate their chances if you do not know how they obtain the victory? Obviously they are not going to kill or incapacitate each other, so we've devised another condition. Observe the bands of cloth around their arms: green for Doctor Hamilton, and gold for Professor Logan. The first to gain the other's cloth is the winner."

Leah leaned up to Logan's ear as Charles explained the exercise. "I promise I won't make you sleep on the couch if you win."

"Damn straight, you'd miss me too much."

The students had gotten excited. Charles waved a hand for quiet.

"Well, I think we'll get started and see what happens. Whenever you're ready, Logan, Leah?"

Hank had redesigned Leah's gloves to leave her palms open, in light of her new ability to pull life from the air. She wiggled her fingers; she'd been practicing hard with both the gloves and with her new talents, but this was a nice chance to have fun.

She'd evaluated the Danger Room as Charles had been speaking. Hank had set it up as an open-floor exercise with a few obstacles: boulders, boxes, a couple of small cliff-like structures. Leah, with her skill at Parkour, heartily approved. She glanced at her partner and blew him a kiss, to the laughter of the students.

"Start on the floor," Charles instructed, "and then when the bell sounds, begin."

Demeter set herself, watching Wolverine do the same and beginning to formulate her plan. They both knew each other's abilities well, which meant that neither of them really had any advantage of surprise. He was going to be prepared for her normal go-to of getting above her opponents.

The bell rang.

Wolverine was already launching himself into the air, bounding off of one of the boxes. Demeter dropped and rolled, flipping herself back up to her feet, and then jumped up onto the nearest boulder as Wolverine landed and reset himself. She quickly leapt across to one of the cliffs, well above his head, and – she thought – too high even for him to jump.

She spread her fingers, rotating her palms up and beginning to pull spores from the air to start growing her "mold puffs", as she'd started calling them. She didn't think Wolverine was going to be affected by allergies, but he sneezed just like anyone, and she thought that might be enough time…

A hand closed on her boot.

She'd been wrong about that jumping thing.

Demeter yelled in surprise as Wolverine dragged her off the ledge, cracking her head on the edge on the way down. She crashed into the floor, seeing stars, and felt his hand on her arm, scrabbling for the green band. Blindly, she balled her body and kicked up.

A roar – and cheers and applause from the students - told her that her boot had made contact with _something._ As her vision cleared, she saw him staggering back with a bloody face. Quickly, although her ears were still ringing, she rolled to her feet and leapt back onto one of the boxes.

 _Time to run. While healing. And making mold._

Demeter took off in a sprint, bounding across the obstacles. Her vision cleared quickly as she devoted most of her attention to healing, dimly hearing Wolverine giving chase behind her.

She had several minutes of sprinting in her before she wore out, and the student had been right – she was faster; she thought she could stay ahead for long enough. She raised an arm behind her and started pulling mold again, swirling it around her hand instead of collecting it in a ball.

She could feel when it was ready – she had a small tornado around her left hand. Grinning, she kicked off the box she was currently on, and launched herself at one of the cliffs, clearing neatly, and spinning to fling the tornado straight at Wolverine's face.

She wasn't disappointed. He started sneezing immediately.

Demeter jumped again and landed on his shoulders, her teeth clamping at the impact, but she was right where she wanted to be. She reached down for the gold band…

Except he didn't sneeze for nearly long enough. _Shit!_

He was grabbing for her boots again. From experience, she knew he could get enough leverage to simply fling her off him.

So she dug one hand into his hair.

He responded by spinning and smashing both their backs into the wall. Demeter yelped and dug her other hand in, and he smashed back again. The students were yelling various bits of advice, none of which she could make out, clapping and cheering. _At least they're entertained._

Wolverine brought his superior strength to bear. He bashed her into the wall again, harder this time and dislodging her grip. Demeter had straightened her legs, hoping to keep her feet out of his grip, but he managed to catch one and pull her off him, slamming her into the floor.

This time she didn't recover fast enough, and she felt him tear the green cloth from her arm. _Oh good. I don't have to move for a minute._

She caught her breath and fixed her cracked ribs, and rolled to her side. Logan extended a hand, helping her up.

"Not bad," he grinned.

"Not bad yourself." They shook hands.

Charles was waving for quiet over the cheers and disappointed groans of the students. "Settle down, please – settle down. Any thoughts on what you observed?"

"Doctor Hamilton is a _badass_."

"Yes, thank you Mitchell. Anyone else?"

"She almost won even though she shouldn't have."

"Correct. Doctor Hamilton made excellent use of her strengths. As did Professor Logan, even working with a handicap he does not normally face. Very good. Thank you both."

They changed places with Hank and Ororo, leaning against the wall and tuning out the discussion.

Logan leaned down and murmured in Leah's ear. "Having your legs around my head was way more fun last night."

She laughed, brushing their fingers together briefly.

* * *

Two hours later, a bruised and bloody Leah was peeling off her combat suit and dropping it in the cleaner with an expression of distaste. "I need a shower. So bad."

Logan was doing the same. "You and Ororo should practice that last move more. Worked out great."

After Hank and Ororo's match, the Professor had asked them to pair up and go two-against-two. Leah's slightly damaged pride – she hadn't really expected to win her match with Logan, although it would have been nice – had been salved by the other two matches, herself and Logan against Hank and Ororo, and then the two women against the men, both of which she'd won. The move Logan was referring to had included Storm scooping her up with a wind tunnel and sending her as a human cannonball straight into Beast's face. She'd felt a little out of control, but could easily see the potential with practice.

She grabbed a protein shake from her small fridge and chugged it, naked, working on her bruises simultaneously. "You want the shower first?"

"Let's go together."

She stopped, intrigued…but worn out. "Logan…I never thought I'd say this to you, but I'm fucking exhausted, and we still have the party tonight…"

He stepped over to her, and even though she was tired, she still felt warm at the sight of his body. _I would probably respond to him even if I were dead._ His hand brushed through her hair.

"Then let me do the work," he murmured.

It would have taken a much stronger woman than Leah to tell him no.

* * *

He started slow. Leah stood in the shower and leaned back against him and just let the water cascade over her, washing away the blood and sweat. "Oh my god."

His arms wrapped around her from behind, hands smoothing over her stomach and hips, stroking her skin without trying to arouse - yet. "Feeling better?"

Her head tipped back against his shoulder. "Yes. I felt so gross."

He reached for her sponge and soap, lathering up and beginning to run the sponge over her. Leah moaned in appreciation, feeling his light kiss on her neck. "I got this."

"No argument…"

She lifted a leg, balancing her foot on one of the shower shelves, and let him soap her up, following the sponge with his hand to rinse off the suds. As she switched legs, he ran the sponge between her thighs gently…and again followed it with his hand. She cried out at the glancing touch.

His free hand was splayed out on her stomach and she could feel him hardening behind her. She tried to reach back and touch him, but he batted her hand away with the sponge. "Relax, baby," he murmured. "Meant it when I said I'd do the work."

He ran the sponge over her arms and back, his hand following, and then finally around to her front, soaping the skin of her stomach and then farther up, circling her breasts with lather. He tossed the sponge down at that point, and lifted both hands back up, cupping her in warmth.

Leah moaned. His fingers were gliding, the soap slippery, and he was caressing her just the way she liked, plucking her nipples with thumb and forefinger. Dimly she was aware of her breathing speeding up, and his hands moving, leaving her briefly to turn her around and rest her back against the wall.

A warm mouth covered her breast, and she threaded her fingers into his hair, holding him to her. He licked and sucked on her gently at first, and then harder, nipping her lightly and eliciting another cry.

He slipped his hand back down between her legs, finding and caressing her clit, feeling her hips move against his hand. "Logan…"

He caressed her for another moment, loving it when she bucked against him, and then dropped to his knees. Leah's eyes opened from where her head had been thrown back against the wall.

"Put your legs over my shoulders."

"I don't…"

"I've got you."

 _God, I don't deserve this._ She draped one leg over his shoulder and felt him brace his forearm underneath her thigh. With a small hop, she got her other leg up, leaning her back on the wall and letting him take the rest of her weight on his arms, and he was so goddamned strong that he kept her from dropping even an inch until he had her right where he wanted her…

His tongue worked on her slowly, drawing her clit between his lips and licking her like a lollipop, and Leah shook, her hips bucking against his mouth again as he licked her with long, smooth strokes. Her exhaustion gone, she dug her fingers into his hair and cried his name out as he nipped her – so gently – and then licked where he'd nipped, again and then again, and then it was back to his tongue circling her clit and her thighs clenched and so did her hands and she was falling, falling…

He had her, though, and kept licking her through her climax, and then stood up with her in his arms and lowered her until she could wrap her legs around his waist and pull him into her, and then she was back up against the wall, feeling him hot and hard inside her, moving so smoothly with the help of the water and how wet she was, and it was the way she liked best, him pulling almost all the way out of her before sliding back in deep, and he caught her mouth in a kiss as he sped up, she tasted herself on his lips and heard and felt him groan in satisfaction, slowing back down and then stopping, resting inside her.

He let her down slowly and smiled as Leah looked at him, dazed. "Do we really need to go to this party?"


	20. Last Christmas (Darren Hayes)

**Author's Note: Yes, I realize movieverse Quicksilver is in the same age bracket as Scott, Jean, etc., but I can't help thinking that he'll always be a little...young. :) So I wrote him that way. Enjoy! -PC**

* * *

Charles had made a series of excellent decisions in regards to the party.

One, the food was astounding.

Two, the adults had access to an open bar.

And three, the party was ending promptly at midnight for the students…but not until two a.m. for the adults.

* * *

With the party in full swing, Logan watched from the bar as Hank twirled Leah on the dance floor. Technically, all of the professors were chaperoning, and everyone was taking turns dancing.

Charles wheeled up next to him, receiving a full tumbler from the bartender. "Enjoying yourself, Logan?"

"Hard not to." He tipped his glass at Charles, and they clinked. "Merry Christmas, Professor."

"Merry Christmas." Charles smiled. "I don't want to bring it up to her tonight, but I want to talk to Leah sometime in the next few days."

He was instantly on guard. "What about?"

"I think she already knows, but I want her to consider taking on the responsibilities of a deputy headmistress in the new year. Ororo needs help as we continue to grow, and Leah has a talent for organization. They get along well; it makes sense."

Logan relaxed. "I'll tell her. Think she'll be fine with it."

The song ended, and he smiled as Hank escorted Leah in his direction. The dancing had flushed her cheeks and put light in her green eyes, which were in turn set off by the dark green silk of her dress. She'd threaded her dark hair with metallic gold strands, and it sparkled in the lights, massed in an intricate braided knot at the back of her neck that he was looking forward to untying later.

He slipped an arm around her waist as they came up. "Hank take good care of you?"

"I think we had fun!" She grinned, glancing at Hank, who nodded. "I haven't danced in forever."

The band started up again and Hank looked at Leah. "Another one?"

She quickly stole Logan's glass and took a sip of the whiskey, then nodded. "Absolutely."

As Leah walked away with Hank, Charles caught Logan smiling again. "Logan, I wanted to say that it's truly wonderful seeing you so happy. I had…well, you know I had worried about you for a long time."

He was about to reply, but they were interrupted by the arrival of Scott and Jean, the latter in crimson red satin.

"Hey guys. Sorry we're late." Scott was strangely flushed, his fingers fluttering nervously.

Jean's eyes swept up and down: even Logan had cleaned up for the party, dressed in white shirt, black pants, and an open black vest. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his arms. She couldn't help but compare him to Scott, who was in a full suit, complete with buttoned collar and tie tight against his throat.

"Where's your lady, Logan?"

He inclined his head towards the dance floor in response to Scott's question. "Getting tossed around by Hank. Smoke?"

Scott reached across the bar and snared a tumbler of whiskey. "Sure."

"Professor?"

"No thank you."

* * *

He marveled at the change from just a few weeks ago, lighting his own cigar before handing one to Scott along with the lighter. _Anyone had told me a month ago that I'd be hanging out with Scott at the Christmas party, I'd have laughed in their face._

Even more surprising was that Scott was actually _smoking_ with him. He inhaled deeply, savoring the taste of the cigar.

Scott took a nervous drag on his own. "How does Leah feel about you smoking?"

He shrugged. "She's never said anything. Figure she doesn't mind, since it doesn't hurt me. Or her."

"Yeah…I think Jean'd kill me if I made a habit of it."

Logan smiled. "Looks like we both wound up in the right place then." He took another drag.

"Yeah." Scott suddenly knocked his whiskey back in one decisive shot. "I'm going to do it, man. I'm asking her tonight."

Logan raised an eyebrow.

Scott patted his pocket.

He got it then.

"Should've saved the cigars for later, maybe? Celebrate?"

"Nah, it's okay. Might need a little more liquid courage though." He grinned. "This is so weird. Me telling you about this."

 _You don't fucking say._

It was funny, though, how quickly alcohol hit Scott. He clapped Logan on the shoulder. "I gotta admit, I really wanted to be a dick to you about Leah. Flirt with her once you guys got serious…you know, just enough to make you mad. So you could see what it was like." Logan opened his mouth and Scott held up his hands. "Peace. We're good. Obviously, I didn't do that."

"I think Leah probably would have punched you some more if you had."

"Probably, but I realized that fucking with what you had going was actually the worst thing I could do for myself."

Logan took a swig from his tumbler. "Like I said. We both wound up in the right place."

* * *

Leah and Hank came off the floor again and rejoined the small circle of staff, grabbing drinks and taking over keeping an eye on the students. Jean was mingling on her own; Scott had returned from outside, leaving Logan to finish his cigar in the quiet.

As he was leaning over the bar for another glass of whiskey, Scott's attention was caught by someone who definitely hadn't been next to him a second ago…along with a gust of wind.

"Peter!"

Scott grabbed the other man's hand enthusiastically. "Great to see you. When did you get here?"

"Just now." Peter surveyed the room, his silver hair shining in the twinkling lights. "Nice party."

"Thanks…"

There was another quick whoosh of wind, and Peter reappeared holding a drink and a plate from the buffet. "Who's that?"

Scott followed Peter's pointing finger to Leah, who was currently standing with Hank drinking and playing chaperone. "Oh, that's Leah Hamilton – Demeter - she's teaching biology. She's been here since…April?"

"Cool. Pretty. She with Hank?"

"No, but…"

"See ya." Peter zipped away, reappearing next to Leah and Hank.

Scott restrained himself from bursting out laughing, and started walking in that direction. This was going to be hilarious.

* * *

Leah accepted another glass of wine from the bartender, turning to Hank, but was startled by the appearance of the silver-haired stranger next to them. Hank grinned, obviously knowing the other man.

"Peter, glad you could make it. Have you met Doctor Hamilton?"

They shook hands. "Nice to meet you, call me Leah."

"Yeah. So. Leah…" He grinned. "What's your weird?"

"…I'm sorry?"

"You know. Your _weird._ "

"Oh…right. My mutation deals with growth. I work with plants."

"Yeah? Cool."

There was another whoosh of wind; Peter disappeared and then reappeared, this time carrying one of the champagne roses that Leah had grown for table decorations. "I'm fast."

He held the rose out to Leah, clearly having no idea that she'd grown the thing. Hank buried his face in his hands, shaking with laughter, especially as he saw who was coming in their direction over Peter's shoulder.

So did Leah.

"Peter…"

The younger man turned at the soft growl. "Oh. Hey Logan."

Logan placed a hand very deliberately on Peter's where it was holding the rose, and pushed his arm down. "No."

Peter looked confused, which dissipated as Logan stepped to Leah's side and placed a proprietary arm around her waist. "Oh. Yeah. Cool, man, cool." He raised his hands. "Didn't know. Sorry."

Scott walked up at that moment, chuckling. "Sometimes you need to slow down, Peter. I would've told you that if you'd just waited a sec…"

* * *

It was like watching a lava lamp; the clumps of students expanded, contracted, scattered and reformed. The professors mingled, drank, and danced, everyone in a genial festive mood.

Jean chose her moment carefully, waiting till Leah was back out on the dance floor, taking another turn with Hank, and Scott was deep in discussion with Peter Maximoff.

"It's a lovely party."

He turned from the bar with another tumbler of whiskey. "Yep."

"Having a good time?"

"Yep."

"Logan…" Jean pouted. "You've barely spoken to me in the last two months. Is this it, then, you're never going to talk to me again?"

He sighed and knocked the whiskey back. "Course not. But I figured out how fucked up everything was, between you and me and Scott. And now I've got something better, and Scott and I have made our peace. So yeah…it's going to be different."

She echoed his sigh. "I know. But…I miss you, you know."

He gestured to the bartender to refill his glass. "Thanks."

She lightly brushed his hand. "Dance with me?"

He snorted. "I don't dance. Haven't even danced with Leah."

"You could practice." She smiled hopefully at him.

He shook his head, draining half the new glass in one swallow. "Anyone gets me out there tonight, Jean, it's going to be Leah, not you. Better if you get that through your head."

"Leah seems like she's doing fine with Hank."

"Hank likes to dance. I don't."

"So you aren't…worried?"

He almost laughed at the blatant ploy, but settled for rolling his eyes. "Nope."

As if on cue, the song ended, and Hank and Leah came off the floor. Leah's green eyes frosted over when she saw Jean; Logan saw her spine stiffen. She'd never said anything, but he'd bet the rest of the cigars in his pocket that there had been some sort of confrontation between the two women.

Instead of slipping his arm around her waist, as he'd been doing all evening, he leaned down and kissed her lingeringly on the lips, one hand on her hip and one on her face. He felt her relax instantly.

She smiled at him as she opened her eyes, but before anyone could speak, Charles was wheeling himself onto the stage, where the band had fallen silent.

"Good evening.

"I hope everyone has enjoyed themselves. We are coming up on midnight, and many of you have a long way to go tomorrow. But before we say goodnight, I wanted to welcome all of those who are celebrating the holidays with us for the first time. Thank you. Thank you for joining our family. We are glad you're here."

As the students cheered and acknowledged their new classmates, the professors had all clumped into a knot at the side of the stage, and several of them clapped Leah – the sole new teacher - on her arms and shoulders. Leah, for her part…Logan had curled his arms around her waist from behind and she was leaning back against his chest, her frost at Jean's appearance forgotten.

"And to all those who have been with us for many years, and many holidays…you are, and will always be, family. Never forget that. We may fight, we may disagree, and we may take separate roads from time to time, but we are _family,_ and we will always be here for each other.

"This will be the last dance for the students…so thank you all for being here tonight, and have a most wonderful holiday."

The students applauded, clapping and cheering again as Charles wheeled off the stage. Once he'd made it off, the band struck up again – something soft and slow, fitting for a last dance.

From the clump of professors, Hank looked back out to the dance floor. "Leah, shall we?"

Before Leah could reply, Logan stepped in.

"Nah. I've got her this time, Hank."

* * *

He'd told Jean he didn't dance…but the expression of sheer delight on Leah's face as he led her out onto the dance floor was making trying worth it. Luckily, the song was slow, and all he had to do was shuffle around. He wrapped his arm around her waist and took her right hand in his left.

Her body was warm and pliant in his arms as they moved in a slow circle. "Thank you," she whispered.

"No problem."

She smiled, seeing Hank dancing with Ororo over Logan's shoulder, and leaned back to look in his face. "What are you thinking?"

He bent and pressed his mouth against her ear. "I'm wondering what the hell you're wearing under this dress."

She blushed and moved even closer to him. It was true…the green silk wasn't leaving a whole lot to the imagination: her shoulders bare except for thin straps, the upper half of the dress outlining every curve and then flaring at her hips to a full skirt that whispered around her legs, the hem brushing her knees as she moved. "You'll have to wait to find out…"

"Fine. Hope you weren't planning on sleeping tonight."

"Nope." She stretched up and brushed their lips together.

"Listen, Leah…about Jean…"

She cocked her left arm from where it had rested on his shoulder, and placed her fingers over his lips. "You don't have to. I trust you. And I don't want her ruining this for me. It's Christmas and I just want to dance with you and help kill the champagne and then go to bed."

"With me."

"Yes. Duh. Of course with you."

He smiled and brushed their lips together again. "I can do that."

* * *

As the song ended, Leah bent and slipped her heels off, then took his hand again. "Can we do something?"

He lifted an eyebrow.

"Come on. It's stupid, but…"

She was pulling him over to the mistletoe in one of the archways as the students all reluctantly filed out, shepherded along by the rest of the professors. He smiled, rolling his eyes, but sliding his arms around her once they were fully under the arch and pulling her tightly against him.

"It's really stupid," she whispered again.

"Stupid tradition," he agreed.

Then it was lips meeting, and Leah's arms around his neck, feeling her shoes hit his back, and him tightening his arms around her waist even more…

"Yeah! You go, Professor Logan!" came a catcall, along with the sound of applause. One of the teenagers; Mitchell, from the sound of it. Logan smiled against her mouth, and felt Leah do the same, but he didn't stop kissing her…

When he finally released her, Leah smiled up at him. "That was perfect."

Scott and Jean had vanished. Peter, Hank, Ororo, Marie, and Bobby were sitting at one of the tables, talking quietly with Charles and intent on draining the remaining champagne bottles. Kitty and Piotr had gone out onto the patio.

He grinned. "Anytime. Let's get some champagne before they drink it all and then go to bed."

"Wait." Her hands clenched on his vest, keeping him in place. "I need to say something."

He looked down at her quizzically. She took a deep breath.

 _He made the first move once. Actually, twice. So now it's your turn, girl._

"I'm falling in love with you. I'm absolutely sure. And I…I just need to know if that's okay."


	21. Accidentally in Love (Counting Crows)

**Author's Note: You all get the next update a couple days early! I'm traveling all this coming week for work.** **Enjoy! –PC**

* * *

He didn't say anything for a few seconds, or a couple of years, depending on perspective.

When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. "I don't deserve it."

"You're an idiot if you think that. And anyway, I don't give a shit. Because I think you do."

"Leah…"

"Please shut up and just tell me if it's okay or not, because I'm kind of hanging here…"

He swallowed, hard, and decided that words weren't enough.

So he took her face in his hands and kissed her again: kissed her like he had when they were in Canada and drunk on admitting that there was more than physical chemistry between the two of them; kissed her like he had in the staff kitchen, the first time he'd gotten to taste her and those kisses been enough to make sex on the kitchen counter seem like a good idea; kissed her like he had when they'd made up after their first argument, Leah on his lap on the patio swing outside, and kissing her breathless until he'd stood up and carried her to his room and they'd tumbled laughing into bed.

He hoped she knew what he meant, but he wasn't stupid enough to take any chances.

So when he let her go, he kept her face in his hands, looked deep into her eyes, and said it the way he knew she'd believe.

"Fuck, yes, Leah. It's okay."

* * *

She didn't get a chance to respond before they were interrupted by Scott running into the ballroom, nearly dragging Jean behind him.

"She said yes!" he yelled.

Leah tried to turn towards them; Logan held her firmly, keeping her facing him. He placed a light kiss on her lips, brushed his hand over her cheek, and then entwined their fingers securely. Leah smiled. "Let's go congratulate them."

There was some champagne left, and a round was quickly poured and glasses clinked. Scott was glowing, his nervousness gone, his grin blinding. Jean was…subdued…but accepted the well-wishes with a smile.

Leah hugged Scott and then turned to Jean, her hand still firmly clasped in Logan's. "Congratulations." For once, she didn't have to suppress distaste at speaking to the other woman; she was genuinely happy for them. _Maybe this'll help her finally sort herself out and see that what she's got isn't exactly awful._

"Thank you."

 _I'm not hugging her, but maybe this is still progress._

Logan was clapping Scott on the shoulder. "You got a date yet?"

"In the spring. Professor…we want to have it here, of course."

Charles nodded, his expression plainly delighted. "Absolutely."

* * *

What had been one congratulatory round turned into two, then three.

By the time the champagne was gone, Bobby was face down on the table, snoring blissfully with Marie draped over his back. Piotr and Kitty had given up and gone to bed, as had Charles and Peter.

Scott and Jean had gotten to the giggly drunk stage and even Jean looked like she was actually enjoying herself.

The last ones standing were Logan and Leah, neither of whom could get more than mildly buzzed. "Standing" was a relative term; Logan was seated, his legs stretched out on another chair, Leah curled on his lap with her head resting on his shoulder. Hank and Ororo had vanished earlier, at about the same time, and Leah smiled to herself, hoping that the holiday spirit – or spirits, they'd both had plenty of champagne – was going to result in something good for them.

Logan was lightly running his fingertips up and down her arm. Leah drained her champagne glass and yawned. "What time is it?"

He stretched to look at his watch. "Almost two. Call it a night?"

She nodded, slowly uncurling herself from his lap and standing. "Where are my shoes?"

Leah retrieved her heels from the mistletoe archway, and they left Scott and Jean giggling at each other and Bobby snoring. In silence, they headed up to the third floor, hands clasped again.

She'd barely locked the door before she felt his hands sliding down her back, running over her hips, hot through the silk.

It was two a.m., and she'd spent hours that day fighting, plus a lot of dancing, and they'd also already had sex…twice…but her body had never cared about that kind of thing where Logan was concerned, and it wasn't starting to now.

She leaned on her arms against the door and felt his hands delve into her hair. Pins went flying as he raked his fingers through the knot of braided twists, unbinding it and letting it all spill down her back. Once he had it free, he pressed the full length of his body against her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She leaned her head back and felt him lightly kissing her neck, slowly and gently. He switched sides, pushing her hair out of the way.

His fingers brushed the bare skin of her upper back as he went for the zipper of her dress and slowly, deliberately dragged it down. She turned as he slid the thin straps off her shoulders and the dress dropped, pooling at her feet. She stepped out of the fabric.

Logan sucked in a breath.

Now he understood why she'd kicked him out earlier and had Ororo come to help her zip her dress.

With a fingertip, he traced the swell of her breasts above the green silk and bronze lace confection that covered her from chest to hip. He'd felt the stiffness of the…corset?...underneath her dress when they'd been dancing, but had no idea what it was.

She looked stunning, especially with a self-satisfied smile curling her lips. He wanted to rip the thing off her, pick her up, and shove her against the door right then.

But she'd obviously done this for him, and he owed her proper appreciation.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

* * *

Later – a lot later – Leah was curled against his side, replete and warm from afterglow, when he lifted up on an elbow and brushed her hair back from her face. She smiled, already half asleep.

"Seems like whenever I say it to someone, I lose them," he murmured. "Might take me awhile to tell you."

She cuddled closer to him and mumbled affirmation. "S'OK. Just keep showing me."

* * *

The professors were all up far earlier than anyone wanted to be, supervising the students leaving for the holidays. A handful – those who had nowhere to go – were staying at the mansion for the two-week break, but the majority were departing.

More than one of the teachers was envious of Scott and his hidden eyes. Leah, flatly refusing to fix hangovers, instead mixed up a pitcher of mimosa in the kitchen and started handing out glasses for a little hair of the dog before too many of the students - or Charles - got up.

The chaos of cars arriving, luggage, the inevitable periodic stress meltdown after a pre-holiday fight between friends, shuttling to the train station and airport, and last-minute warnings about misusing powers during the break began to die down by midafternoon, the mansion mostly empty. Leah was slumped tiredly in the kitchen unenthusiastically munching on a sandwich when Hank walked in.

She hadn't seen him for more than a few seconds all day and immediately straightened up. " _So?"_

He pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and chugged it. "So, what?"

Leah raised her brows at him. "Did you leave with Ororo last night?"

"A gentleman does not discuss such things, Miz Hamilton."

"Oh, yeah, since you know _nothing_ about mine…"

"That is not my fault. Trust me; I would have been fine with not knowing what you and Logan did on that counter. Ignorance is indeed bliss."

"You said it was polite to ask!"

"And did you give me any of the details?"

Leah glared at him and frowned. "Fine then, don't tell me." She sized him up. Did he seem more relaxed? It was hard to tell with everyone so tired and hung over…

Hank chucked the empty water bottle at her. "Stop that."

* * *

"Logan…"

"Hmmm?"

"Did you lock the door?"

"Mmhmm."

Just to make sure, he turned his attention from Leah for a split second and looked over, seeing the latch turned, and then went back to what he had been doing…

She was sprawled in her desk chair, her skirt hiked up around her waist, him kneeling on the floor and his hands between her legs. She was still wearing her boots, tall black leather, and he pulled one of her legs over his shoulder, caressing up from her knee to her thigh.

She'd teased him that morning as she'd dressed, drawing thigh-high black stockings up her legs and then slipping on the boots. When he'd made to pull her back to bed, she'd smiled, and whispered a time in his ear to come to her office.

He'd been five minutes early and had kicked the door shut behind him.

She lifted her other leg up at the touch of his mouth, sliding farther down in her chair. He knew what she liked and in no time he had her close, so close, and he scooped her up and laid her on the desk, going down to kiss her and feeling her heels lock at the small of his back.

She sighed with contentment as he entered her. "This is so much better in reality…"

He smiled, catching her lip between his teeth, moving slow and deep in her. "I like your fantasies."

He shifted his weight to one arm and slipped his hand down between them. She reached her arms back over her head and grabbed the edge of her desk as she came, gasping his name out and clenching her thighs. Moments later, he sighed out his own release.

"Mmm." Leah smiled as he rested on her for a moment, wrapping her arms around him. "I need more of that when school's in session. Mid-day breaks."

Logan kissed her lips and stood, straightening his clothes. "Anytime."

Leah laughed. "Well, I think it _was_ a lot easier to do this now, with so many people gone and no office hours…"

He helped her up and Leah put herself back together as well. "Think I'm going to go work in the garage for awhile. See you at dinner?"

"Absolutely."

She cracked a window after he left, even though it was cold, airing the smell of sex out of the room, and returned to the syllabus for the spring semester that she'd been working on…

* * *

Jean turned into the hallway just as Logan was turning out of it at the other end and heading down the stairs. He was smiling, a spring in his step, and it didn't take a mind reader to figure out that he'd just come from Leah's office.

Speaking of which…

She approached the door slowly, staying out of sight, and peered in from the door frame.

Leah was at her desk, typing and jotting notes on a pad next to her. Her color was high, cheeks flushed, and…

And her office smelled like Logan. Reeked of it.

And she obviously knew it, because she had a window open. In December.

Jean put the pieces together and felt a rush of pure hatred for the other woman. Despite saying yes to Scott, despite thinking she was coming to terms with appreciating what she had… _Scott wouldn't want to have sex in our office. Wouldn't even think of it._ And there was Leah, glowing with satisfaction, on so many levels getting what she wasn't and wouldn't ever.

It really didn't help her state of mind when Leah put her pen down, propped her chin on her hand, and stared off into space, grinning like an idiot.

 _Leah rifles through her bag, looking for some very key ingredients. They have a couple of days left at the cabin, but she's in the mood for something special, and she knows she packed what she needs to assist…_

 _Her fingers touch lace, and she pulls out the green and black bra and its pair of matching panties. As she'd thought, Logan has not needed any additional inspiration, but she likes the idea of surprising him. She slips out of the chambray shirt and leggings that have been her standard for the past few days, and shimmies into the fancy underwear. He's outside smoking; she's got plenty of time._

 _She pauses. Where to wait? It's not like she has a plethora of options. The bed is a little standard for her mood, maybe the couch? She likes that idea, and she'll be right in front of the fireplace for extra warmth._

 _She pads downstairs – bare feet, socks would totally spoil the look – and perches on the couch. She's not disappointed when he comes back in._

 _He shuts the back door and freezes, eyebrows lifting. "Shit."_

 _Leah smiles._

 _He is on her like a shot, burying his face in the swell of her breasts above the lace and bearing her down onto her back on the couch. She laughs, squeaking a little at how cold his clothes and skin are – and is abruptly cut off by his mouth covering hers, fingers digging into her thighs and pulling her legs around his waist._

Jean's lip curled at seeing the memory. _Well isn't she just_ perfect. _Everyone thinks I've got that title, but apparently I have nothing on Ms. Plant Lady. I'm Leah Hamilton, everyone likes me and I've got a doctorate and I also like pretty lingerie and my boyfriend doesn't age and is really hard to hurt, and oh yeah, that goes for me too._

She made her mind up there and then to stop spying on Leah's memories. Enough was enough, and if she saw any more, she'd probably do something really stupid against the other woman.

But there was one last thing. One small, petty payback.

Pulling the memory away was easy. It was two months old; something Leah didn't think about as often. She felt it come away like a glowing marble as Leah stiffened, and slumped down onto her desk.

Jean peeked very quickly – light unconsciousness. Perfect. Leah had no idea she had been there; she'd think she'd just fallen asleep working.

She smiled and continued on her way.


	22. Good to Be Alive (Skillet)

_March_

"Okay, Storm." Demeter spoke into her headset. "Ready when you are. Nice and easy."

Storm was already aloft, summoning the clouds for rain. In moments, a gentle sprinkle began to fall on the cleared fields.

"Perfect." Demeter crossed her arms. "Give me about five minutes of this and then I'll start."

She surveyed the broad expanse of soil. Flooding and storms had destroyed the majority of the early Florida strawberry crops; when the plea for help had come to them, although it was a private commission from the largest of the industrial growers, the economics of the situation put the two women in agreement: they would go. The farm workers had been laboring for several days before she and Storm had arrived, preparing the soil for them so that they could make the most efficient use of their time. This was the last section of land they had to restore before they could go home.

Storm was currently wetting the fields down in preparation for her. Demeter was also getting soaked, but didn't care; she unstrapped her gloves, absently slapping them against her leg while she waited for the right saturation levels.

A small group from the company was watching from off to the side; their interest had increased significantly in the three days they'd been working. She knelt down and tested the feel of the soil.

"Good to go," she said, settling onto her heels and digging both hands into the soil.

* * *

She stayed that way for nearly an hour, working methodically across the landscape and calling for more rain or for Storm to clear the clouds. Green swept across the earth, and she did what she could in terms of weed prevention. Demeter's abilities didn't extend to reducing growth, but she got the new crops stabilized to the point that the weeds were likely to struggle for space and nutrients.

She slowly pulled her hands from the soil and stood, opening her eyes.

 _I don't like this._

The group watching from the company had increased significantly. Several more vehicles had appeared next to the farm buildings that she could see in the distance. They weren't approaching her – yet - but their body language was tense, guarded.

 _I don't like this at all. Better buy some time._

She sank back onto her knees and shoved her hands back in the earth, trying to make it look like she was still working. "Storm, you seeing this?"

"I am. They arrived perhaps half an hour ago."

Demeter pushed the plants a little farther to maintain the illusion that she was working. "I don't think you should land yet. Stay up there."

"I agree. Let us see how this unfolds. I will be ready to pull you out."

"Copy that."

She stayed kneeling for a moment, feeling the earth in her hands, steeling herself for what she might have to do. There was something about this – her hands in the dirt, communing with life – that even Logan took second place to, in terms of making her feel the most _herself._

Hank had worked her equipment over again, and the sleeves of her suit now concealed a variety of tiny ampoules. The new gloves hooked into her cuffs, tiny triggers on the fingertips to release whichever of the little vials she needed. She hadn't ever had to use them.

Yet.

As always, she felt stronger after the few moments of just _being_ part of everything. She stood up and strapped on her gloves, and toggled the button to keep her microphone hot. "You read me, Storm?"

"Loud and clear."

There were over a dozen men now clustered together – _all_ men, and all with an air of burly competence. Their company liaison was in the center of the pack, closing his umbrella for the final time as it became clear she was finished.

"Demeter," he said, as she approached. "It looks perfect. Thank you again."

"Of course. Everything is within a few days of the old crops. You should be right on schedule."

"Excellent. Well, we'll complete the bank transfers as usual for you. Will you be leaving this afternoon?"

"Yes. We're anxious to get home." _And thank goodness we got our own car as opposed to riding with you._

"Actually, we were hoping you and your colleague might stay for dinner? We have some further proposals to discuss with you." The man grinned at her. "A couple of extra hours is surely doable?"

"Not this time." She smiled back. "Feel free to email me the details, and Storm and I will discuss it as we always do."

He shrugged, the grin remaining in place. "Can't blame us for trying – the two of you are quite the resource."

She felt, rather than saw, the other men tense, and realized there must have been a signal in his words. Her fingers twitched on the triggers in her gloves. "Thank you."

"I'm sure you'd see things my way if you just heard me out. We'd love to have the two of you as permanent employees."

"I don't think so." She smiled again. "Now if you'll forgive me, we really should be going."

"Actually, Demeter…that's not going to be possible."

Her fingers stopped twitching. Tightened. "Excuse me?"

"You'll be staying with us for awhile. We need to talk. So, if you'd just let your colleague know to land, we can get on with things and hopefully come to an understanding quickly."

Demeter took a breath and stepped back with her right foot, planting herself firmly. "And how exactly are you planning on accomplishing this?"

 _Oh, for fuck's sake._

Guns were unholstered and pointed at her immediately. One of the men also pulled out a set of handcuffs, and a pair of metal gauntlets, presumably for her, to keep her hands from contacting the earth. _Well, give them credit for thinking ahead._

"There's no need for this to get unpleasant," the liaison said softly.

"You're pointing about six guns at me, I think it's already gotten unpleasant."

"Regrettable."

"Uh-huh."

"You're an intelligent woman, Demeter. Tell Storm to land; we'll dispense with this and we'll just talk."

She took a breath. "You're right."

He relaxed. "I knew you'd see this our way."

She flicked the triggers on her gloves in a precise sequence and felt the little pods slide into her palms. "Storm?"

"Yes, Demeter?"

"Light these assholes up."

The air crackled and an instant later, lighting struck in the precise center of the group, straight onto their (former) liaison. Demeter was thrown back, but had expected it, and felt a cushion of wind swooping in and controlling her fall. _Thanks, Storm._

The wind set her gently on her feet. She crushed the pods in her hands and flattened her palms, beginning to grow the contents – a lovely little spore cocktail specially devised by herself and Hank.

Six of them were standing back up, and one had even held on to his weapon. She didn't wait, instead blasting the tornadoes of spores forward into their faces. The wind was back – Storm must have seen what she was doing – and did an excellent job of assisting in the spread.

In moments, they were all on the ground, coughing and wheezing. Her healing factor was humming along, keeping her protected from her own spores, and she wiped her palms off on the grass. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"I concur." Storm descended and headed towards their car.

"FUCK!"

Demeter screamed, dropping to the ground; one of the men had managed to raise his weapon. It was a close shot, and he'd hit her dead center in the back of her left knee.

"Demeter?"

The guy must have some sort of regular allergies and already be taking antihistamines – that was the only explanation for how quickly he was recovering. She slammed her open palm down on the ground and did something she very rarely did.

 _GROW._

In an instant, everything in a ten-foot radius shot up five feet. She _twisted_ the earth, and the plants knew she was in pain and bent to her will, wrapping the asshole in grass and weeds and other plant life, binding him firmly to the ground. She was gratified to find a couple of tree seedlings in there too, their strong young limbs twining around wrists and ankles, pulling the man into a spread-eagle to ensure all threat was gone.

And the rest of the bastards, for good measure.

Storm was back and hovering a few feet above the earth. "My goodness."

Demeter was panting, falling over onto her side with the exertion of healing her leg and the blast of her powers. "I don't do that very often. Not good for the soil…" She fumbled at her thigh and drew out a small protein pack, ripping the top off with her teeth and draining it. "Ow."

The shot had passed clean through her knee, shattering the kneecap, but at least she didn't have to get rid of the bullet, and was already well on her way to healing. With the addition of the protein pack, she even felt comfortable revving things up. "What do you think?"

"I think…" Storm paused, evaluating the group of men that Demeter had bound. "I think unconsciousness is preferable at the moment."

"Agreed."

Storm waved a hand, using her control of the atmosphere to empty the air from the men's lungs, with such precision that Demeter was unaffected despite being mere feet away. She used the time to finish with her leg and get to her feet, and drain another protein pack.

"Fuck," she sighed.

* * *

He was in the middle of discussion on the Battle of Britain when everyone heard the alarms, and a few minutes later, felt the rumble of the basketball court opening. Logan's ears even picked up on the whine of the jet, moments before it appeared in the window descending into the hangar.

His class tittered, knowing very well who was on that plane as he smiled and checked his watch.

Close enough.

"…And we'll pick that up tomorrow. No homework. Class dismissed."

Afraid he might change his mind, his class bolted, with a parting "Everyone make sure to thank Doctor Hamilton!" from Mitchell.

Leah had told him about the commission – of course – and he'd expected her to be tired, but had also figured she'd be pleased with the work.

What he hadn't expected, as he stepped off the elevator into the hangar, were two exceedingly grim faces; both his partner and Ororo had furrowed brows and tight mouths as they spoke to Charles, who had made it down even before he had.

And…

Leah was standing straight, but the left knee of her suit was shredded, and everything below it was crusted with blood. He sniffed – the blood was fresh, probably from just before they headed home – but no trace of open wounds, of course.

She saw him and her mouth relaxed, her green eyes locking onto his like a calm port in a storm. Heedless of whatever Charles was saying, he strode to her side and slid his arms around her, drawing her tight against him. Her body nearly vibrated with tension, like holding an overdrawn bowstring.

"What the hell happened?" He restrained himself from going for her hair, braided and wrapped around her head; the act of untying it and running his hands through it was calming for him, but time enough for that later.

"We were just explaining to Charles. The company who owns the strawberry farms we were restoring decided that they no longer wished us to have the option of offering our services." Ororo grimaced. "Their preference was – is – that we are theirs permanently and were not pleased when we said no."

"So what, they shot you?" He looked down at Leah.

"Well, yes, but that was after they tried to convince us to stay voluntarily."

Charles sighed. "I'm sure you're both tired. Should we plan to meet tomorrow morning and discuss this further? I don't think anything will change if we delay that long."

Both women nodded, and Ororo walked off with Charles. Leah leaned against Logan's shoulder. "I want a steak the size of my head, a hot bath, and you. In that order."

* * *

She'd been in the tub for a good thirty minutes before he leaned around the door frame. "Not drowning, are you?"

Leah smiled, hair piled on top of her head. "I'm in heaven. This feels so good." She leaned on the edge of the tub. "Thanks for letting me unwind."

He stepped into the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the side, and kneeling by the tub. "Let me see it."

She lifted her left leg out of the water and let him inspect it with both eyes and hands. "It's fine. All better."

He nodded, but didn't take his hands away, running his fingers down over her calf. "Knew I should've gone with you."

"You had things to do here. Ororo and I can take care of ourselves. This is the first time anything's ever happened."

He was still caressing her leg. "Would've made me feel better, being there."

"Hank's gloves worked like a charm, though. That spore cocktail…" She shook her head. "Good stuff."

"You used the gloves?" He was surprised.

"Yeah." She sighed. "Tried to get out without hurting anyone, but it wasn't going to happen."

"You OK?"

He was asking about her mental state, not physical. She'd been deliberately trying not to think about it, and really didn't want to start now.

So instead she sat up and kissed him. Hard.

Being apart for most of the week wasn't something either of them enjoyed under normal circumstances, but this time was different – her injury, and the situation as a whole, and having to use the more lethal aspects of her powers…

 _Don't think about it._

She broke their kiss and pulled at his undershirt. "Get in here."

He stripped in ten seconds flat and joined her in the tub, water slopping over the edges, their mouths tangling together messily and Leah's hair coming down and trailing in the water. He groaned as she settled on top of him, straddling his hips and he felt her smooth, wet skin against him.

"I missed you," she murmured. "And it feels like you missed me…"

His answer was to capture her mouth again, his hand sliding into her hair and the other stroking up her side to her breast, gliding through the sheen of water and bath oil she'd used. His tongue stroked hers and she met him right back, burying the day beneath desire and feeling.

She lifted up and reached between them and guided him into her, and they groaned together as she sank down. She moved on him slowly, trying not to spill yet more of the water, but this was new for them, making love in a bath, and they were both obviously enjoying the novelty and she just had to go faster, whimpering and biting her lip, and it was his turn to slide his hand down, finding the right spot instantly and drawing slow circles.

Her hips bucked against his hand and she came apart, crying his name out and digging her nails into his shoulders, and he grabbed her around the waist and pushed her over onto her back, spilling more water out of the tub and at that point she didn't care, he was thrusting harder into her as she came down from her climax, and it didn't take him long at all to join her in release.

She reached up and slowly kissed him, the frenzy of the last minutes abated. The water was starting to cool down – what was left of it – and she smiled, trying and failing to care about the puddles all over the floor.

He was still inside her, lazily returning her kiss. "Yeah. I missed you."

* * *

Later in the evening, sprawled on the couch with Logan's head on her lap, Leah finally found the courage to ask about something she'd wanted to for months. Despite their lovemaking, and feeling recharged from food and warmth, she needed something more to get her grounded again, and thought that this was as good a time as any to try.

"I can feel it, you know." She feathered her fingers through his hair.

"Feel what?"

"What's wrong with you. You might not be able to really notice it yet…but I can feel it."

He went still. "What does it feel like to you?"

"Like…something's off. Wrong. I can't explain it better." She paused. "But I do think I can help."

He reached up and covered her hand with his, where it rested on his chest. "You know what it is. You can't fix it, Leah. It's stuck in me. No way to get it out without dying."

"No." She shook her head. "I can't take the metal out, but I think I can heal your healing. Get it working at full strength again. It's slowly burning out…you know that."

His mouth pressed into a firm line. "No one else does."

"And I won't tell anyone. But Logan…I really think I can help. And I'd like to try."

He sat silent for a moment. Leah pushed a little. "You might have more than a human lifetime left if I don't do anything. I don't know how bad the damage is yet, or how fast it's going. But either way…I'm not interested in losing you, and it might be something where if it gets to a certain point, I can't help."

Another few moments of silence. "Okay," he said finally. "What do you need?"

"Just…hold still." She slipped her hand under his shirt, finding bare skin.

 _She falls into that place where she always goes to use her power, and extends her senses – so much more carefully when she deals with a person, instead of a bunch of trees._

 _Logan is Logan; she has not had to do this for him before. And it's much different._

 _This is a body that knows her. She is not foreign, not an intruder. There's no weirdness, no nausea, no sense of_ get out.

 _She can see his muscles, bones, cells – everything. Carefully, she identifies the enzyme that makes up the critical core of his healing factor. She finds where it's made, and she sees the glands beginning to die from overwork, keeping him from being poisoned to death along with everything else he does to himself._

 _The healing cannot heal itself. But she can._

 _Slowly, she encourages their recovery – encourages the imperfect, worn out cells to die off, and new, clean copies to replace them. The glands, which had shown faint signs of withering and discoloration, are perfect now: round, full, bright._

 _She checks her work. There are a handful of additional enzymes and hormones that make up the balance of the healing factor; she peeks at these glands, but none are showing nearly the same wear. She touches them and can tell that the work she has done will repair these – it's happening already, in fact._

 _Satisfied, she withdraws._

Leah took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

And froze.

When she'd closed her eyes, Logan had looked like a man in his prime. He still did – but _more._

Everything about him was _more._ Skin fuller, tighter, smoother. Some of the veins on his hands had smoothed out. Muscles firmer ( _that was possible?)_ , eyes brighter. The grey streaks at his temples and forehead were gone; his hair was thicker, shinier, lush and dark.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

He flexed his hands experimentally. "Different. Better. A lot better."

She rolled her shoulders, stretching. "Logan, what I did…that damage is going to come back. How long have you had that adamantium again?"

He shrugged. "Forty years? Give or take?"

"Okay. So…that's about how long what I did will last. Maybe a little longer; there's no way to know how things were before you got it. Unless someone finds another way to counteract the poison. Which – that's certainly possible, especially if you know you'll need to deal with it. Hank might have thoughts."

"Could you do it again?"

She paused, thinking. "I don't see why not. It was easy."

He shrugged. "So every forty years, you have to recharge me. No big deal."

Leah bit her lip, unsure if he realized what he was saying. Her emotions still felt rubbed raw from the events of the day. "You really want to put up with me that long?"

She'd meant it to sound like a joke, but her voice was rough and tired. He looked at her, confused. She plunged ahead.

"I guess…I just get a little scared sometimes, not very often, but once in awhile…when I think about the long term…that this just works because we don't have other options, you know? I never met anyone else that was like me, didn't age, and I know I'm not as old as you are, but I mean – it's sort of a problem, right? Caring about someone when you know you're going to just stay the same?"

She dropped her head into her hand. "I'm being insane. I'm sorry. I just…us earlier, and fixing you just now…it all helped me feel back in balance, tipping the scales back to the middle, but I'm still apparently kind of jacked up from today."

He waited till she was done, and then took her face in his hands.

"I love you."

Leah gulped and started to cry.

She curled herself into a ball and fell onto his lap and rested her head on his thigh, and cried into his jeans. Logan sighed the sigh of every confused man who had been or would ever be confronted with a crying partner. And he did what most of those same men had all done: stroked Leah's hair and let her cry on him.

And when she'd let the worst out, he added, "Should've told you way before this. I know you know, but I should've had the guts to say it. And maybe part of it is knowing I'm not gonna lose you in thirty or forty years. No way to separate that – it's what you are." He kept stroking her hair. "What I said before was that I wanted as much of you as you'd give me. Still true. Not just your mutation. Everything."

She hiccupped and sat up, wiping her face on her sleeve. "I'm nuts. I don't know why I just puked all of that up."

"You had a rough day. Voices in anyone's head get louder on those days. And I'm a dick for not telling you sooner."

She leaned her head on his chest and felt his arms go around her. "I really did know. I promise."


	23. Unwell (Matchbox Twenty)

Morning found Leah and Ororo in Charles' office early, before classes began and accompanied by large cups of coffee.

Charles was brooding after they'd finished filling in the details from the previous day. "I can't say I haven't expected this to happen at some point – and perhaps it's overdue – but I had always thought that our reputation protected us from such things."

Leah sighed. "In a way it's my fault. I'm not as well known, and I'm the one who pushed us to work on projects like this."

"You cannot blame yourself, Leah." Ororo's tone was firm. "You have been right to want to help. The reputation Charles is referring to is that of all of us, not just you. That you are part of the X-Men should have been enough."

"Well, it did happen, so now the question is what do we do about it?"

"I think we should not accept any more projects for the time being."

Leah opened her mouth, but Charles was already nodding. "I agree. We have to think about this. Perhaps a bigger team will need to go in the future. I don't want us to hide ourselves away – being members of society, demonstrating that we can use our abilities for good, is part of what we're working towards here – but I believe a step back is warranted."

"We don't have anything on the schedule right now. So that's at least something. I was supposed to go to D.C. next week though, for my quarterly meeting with the Department of Agriculture…but maybe I can do a conference call instead." Leah frowned.

"If a private company is willing to gamble like this, it's only a matter of time before the government does as well," said Charles flatly. "On the other hand, your relationship with the Department of Agriculture…there may come a time when we need all the allies we can get. If you must go, take Logan with you."

Leah snorted, covering for her dislike of needing a _bodyguard_. "He'll die of boredom in that meeting.  I almost do."

Charles looked at her. "Leah, you know as well as I do that he _would_ die…before letting anything happen to you. And since that's rather hard to manage, I can't think of any way you'd be safer. You're family now." He smiled, seeing right through her. "You're part of the team. We take care of each other. Protect each other."

* * *

She'd set up a special section in the third greenhouse for Scott and Jean's wedding. Their requests had come through Scott, of course – she and Jean weren't on any better terms than chilly civility, and that certainly didn't include _Hey, Leah, would you mind saving us a few thousand bucks by growing all the flowers for our wedding?_ But Scott had asked, and given her a list, and – as Charles had said – they were family.

The rosebushes she'd started were coming along nicely, and she methodically sprayed a special mineral and nutrient soup over the soil, wetting it down thoroughly to support the accelerated growth schedule she had planned. Of course, she could grow _a_ rosebush in an instant, but this was a wedding, after all, and so she was starting over a month in advance.

Leah yawned. Red roses, white lilies, and ivy. Work she could do in her sleep, and so very _traditional._

 _Someday, I'll grow some bronze roses for me. Maybe green, tipped with bronze…yeah. I wonder if I could get them to grow metallic? Maybe some mica in the soil…_

She slipped her hand into the dirt around the rosebushes, summoning her power and nudging them along just a little. The same with the ivy that was now climbing up the wall of the greenhouse; she hadn't started the lilies yet, that would be in a couple of weeks, but everything was on schedule.

And then sweat broke out on her forehead.

 _It's too hot in here._

Leah spun, pulling her hand from the earth, to see Jean leaning against the doorway.

 _Why is it so hot in here_?

Even in her ratty work jeans – they were her favorite pair, but were starting to look like they'd challenged Logan to a fistfight – and old green tank top, she was sweating bullets. She brushed a droplet from her eyes, leaving a streak of dirt on her forehead.

"Did you get lost?"

 _Tell her. Tell her. Give it back. Give it back!_

Jean couldn't think.

 _We took it. Finders keepers. It's yours now!_

 _Give it back._

Leah was looking very confused. "Jean? What are you doing here?"

 _I have to tell her. I have to._

 _She doesn't know. She'll never know. It's yours now! We could take more!_

 _NO!_

 _She has so much. We could take just a little more? Just a bit?_

 _NO!_

 _It makes you happy to take from her. Remember? It felt so good when we did it the first time._

 _I was wrong._

 _Wrong, right – what difference? She doesn't know, and it makes you happy. We can do it._

 _NO._

Jean exerted her will – as much as she could, over the other voice in her head - and walked out of the greenhouse.

 _What. The. Ever-loving. FUCK._

Leah shook her head, wiping more sweat off her brow and feeling the temperature dropping back to normal. In a daze, she circled the room, slowly digging her hands into the soil around each of her projects, making sure the heat hadn't actually damaged anything.

 _Should I…um…tell someone about this? Fuck. I have no idea._

She scrubbed her face with her hands. _I think anyone else might think I was crazy. Hell,_ I _kind of think I'm crazy. Last I knew, Ororo was the one who could turn up the heat, not Jean._

 _She probably just wanted to freak the shit out of me. Well, it worked._

* * *

He'd stuck around to have a beer with Hank after their evening workout, and Leah was already in bed by the time he came upstairs, wearing one of his T-shirts and engrossed in a book.

"You talk to what's his name?" He came out of the bathroom, starting to strip for bed.

"Secretary Carlson?" She'd filled him in on the discussion from that morning over lunch. "Yes. He said he'd check about whether we can do the meeting via conference call, but sounded like he was unhappy about it. I do think I should go…and if we want to preserve goodwill…"

"It's fine. Don't mind going with you."

"I know you don't mind. But you know I like taking care of myself."

She still sounded annoyed by the idea of him having to come with. He turned the lights out in the front room and slid into bed, rolling on his side to face her.

"Not what's really bothering you, is it?"

For a minute she almost told him about what had happened in the greenhouse. The strange heat…Jean's silence, and abrupt departure…

 _Eh. Fuck it._

She shrugged and smiled. "With how badass you all have made me over the last year…it makes me feel a little helpless, that's all."

"Not a reflection on you." He shifted onto his back and reached an arm out for her, and Leah scooted over to neatly fit herself against his side, leaning her head against his chest.

"Hard to not think of it that way, though."

"Yeah, I get it."

They were both quiet for a minute, and then he added, "If it helps, just think of it as doing me a favor." He squeezed her shoulders. "Better being there than back here worrying about losing you."

Charles had said more or less the same thing, and she knew that both men were right.

* * *

 _He staggers down the hall in the bright sunlight, still disoriented from the abrupt change in perspective and seeing people he thought were dead. Students give him curious looks, but he ignores them, looking for something, something stable, something he knows…_

 _Then he hears her voice, and he recognizes where he is, and there's her classroom…_

 _She's wandering between the desks as she always does when she teaches, her back to him, in slim black pants and green blouse and the tall black boots he loves. Her dark hair is caught in a loose braid that falls over her shoulder and his hands itch with wanting to untie it…_

 _He's frozen in her doorway and her students are looking at him strangely. She turns and her eyebrows lift._

" _Logan? Are you all right?"_

 _He takes two long steps forward and pulls her into his arms, covering her mouth fiercely with his, not caring about the sudden noise – whistles and catcalls and a "holy shit!" or two - from the students, he's missed her way too much and he shoves his hand into her hair, cupping her face, deepening the kiss and tasting her, and it's like coming home…_

 _She's not responding. Not the way she should be._

 _She isn't pushing him away, but he doesn't feel her arms around him and her body is tense._

 _He lets her go, abruptly breaking their kiss._

 _She's looking at him and his heart plummets._

 _This is not the gaze of his lover._

 _The green eyes that he drowns in, that go dark when she's aroused or angry and turn bright as grass when she's using her power…they are the eyes of a friend. A very confused friend._

" _We aren't together," he says. It's not a question._

 _She shakes her head. "No. We're…we aren't…Logan, are you okay?"_

 _He covers his face with his hands. It figures. Guys like him don't get happy endings, so of course, the one thing from the old world that really meant a damn to him didn't make it._

Logan bolted upright, sweat breaking out on his face, gasping for air.

 _Fucking nightmares._

He looked at the clock – three a.m. Leah was snuggled up against him, all warmth and softness in his old black T-shirt. He breathed deeply, inhaling her scent, and even that was enough to start calming him down. At least his claws weren't out.

He'd told her the truth when she'd asked, he hadn't known her in the old world, but his brain had come up with the worst nightmare possible: if he had, and then had lost her by saving everyone else. He reached out and touched her hair, brushing it back from her cheek and eliciting a sleepy murmur. He slid back down under the covers and into her arms, and the motion brought her more awake.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "Nightmare."

In response, she cuddled closer to him – she was no stranger to his nighttime demons. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

They'd been together long enough; she knew better than to push, and instead she shifted forward and kissed him. The nightmare was still fresh enough that he felt the contrast: how wrong the kiss in the dream had been, and how right it was now. The touch of her lips filled him with need for her, and he returned her kiss hard and fierce, pulling her tight against him.

If he hadn't already, he would have loved her just for not pushing him away and complaining that it was three in the morning. Her arms slid around him and her fingers dug into his back, and she wrapped her leg over his waist, fitting their hips together, and every response, every touch of her hands, was erasing the nightmare.

He rucked up her shirt – his shirt – and covered her breast with his hand, lowering his mouth to the other and drawing her nipple between his lips. She bucked against him with breathy little cries as he sucked, swirling his tongue over the sensitive skin, and then switched his hand and mouth, turning her cries into moans. He pushed her fully onto her back and felt her legs wrap around him as he slid up and kissed her again, just wanting more of her taste.

Her hands touched his chest, slid down his sides and back up to stroke through his hair and down his back, and then around. At the feel of her fingers wrapping around him, he shuddered and fell onto his side, thoughts gone as she touched him, her strong hand stroking him up and down, and he groaned her name and pushed her over onto her back again, sliding down her body and tearing her panties off – literally - desperate to get between her legs with his mouth.

At the first touch of his tongue she bowed off the bed and Logan yanked her hips back down and pushed two fingers into her, his cock throbbing in anticipation at the feel of her gripping his hand. Leah half-sat up, rising on her elbows and sobbing for air; he wasn't normally this rough with her but she obviously wasn't minding, and he moved his hand fast and hard, licking her clit at the same time, loving the sounds she was making for him as he drove his fingers into her, and then he felt her clench around his hand and she fell back on the bed, whimpering his name as he kept stroking her through the orgasm.

Then he was in her, sinking deep, and Leah had her eyes open and was looking straight into his as he slid in to the hilt. There was the nightmare again: the confused look of a friend and then, now, the eyes of his Leah, glittering in the darkness and faint moonlight, but he could still see her smile, and her heels locked at his back and pulled him into her, and her mouth was on his and her tongue touched his and all he could do was move, just move, focused solely on the slick, hot feel of her as he thrust…it was good, so good, always so good, and he was slamming into her and Leah was just hanging on to him, gasping with every movement, and she was so warm, so smooth around him…

He let go, spilling himself into her and falling onto his arms, keeping some of his weight off her even in the middle of climax. For long moments, neither of them moved, catching their breath.

"Some nightmare," Leah finally whispered.

She unwrapped her legs from him slowly and he withdrew, rolling over onto his back. "Yeah. It was."

She pushed his shirt down but decided that getting up for new underwear was far too much effort. Instead, she nestled against his side in one of her favorite positions, resting her head in the hollow of his shoulder and feeling his arm wrap around her. "I'm here."

"Yeah. You are."


	24. Secret Garden (Bruce Springsteen)

**Author's note: Hey, look, special bonus update! I really couldn't resist making Logan meet Leah's dad, and I wanted to give you all something that didn't have lemons in it, for the first time in a few chapters…seriously, YOU try keeping these two out of bed (shower, desk, couch, table) for more than a chapter...*grumble* Anyway, thanks as always for everyone who's following, reading, and leaving me those lovely reviews! Next chapter is going to be major action in D.C.! -PC**

* * *

Leah picked up one of the new gloves, carefully fingering the soft leather. "Hank, these are absolutely gorgeous."

He grinned, pleased with what he'd done in a short span of time. "I'm glad you think so. That was the point, after all, for you to have something you can wear without your full combat suit."

She kept examining them. Her new gloves were longer than the ones she wore with her combat suit; almost elbow length. The leather was thin; the channels for her various pods were much more pronounced than in her suit sleeves, but the gloves would slide easily under a blouse or a jacket. They were also fingerless, only coming up to the first knuckle on her hands.

"How do they work without the full gloves?"

"Ah. I thought that, since you'll primarily be using these in case of emergency, you wouldn't need as much of a selection. Your suit has ten different pods available; there are only two on these, so you don't need full trigger controls. In fact, even the second setting is only on your left hand."

She nodded. "Sounds good. Probably the standard spore cocktail for one of them?"

"That was my inclination. And for the other slot…" He hesitated, then stood and crossed to one of the lab's refrigerators, pulling out a small metal box. "I ordered these several weeks ago, when I redesigned your suit gloves."

He set the box in front of her and flipped the lid open. Three small pods – identical to the ones they used in her suit – sat nestled in the box.

"I'm guessing this isn't the spore cocktail."

Hank shook his head. "No. It's a particularly nasty strain of the flu, with an extremely short incubation period. With your abilities, it should be nearly instantaneous."

To his surprise – he was expecting her to be royally pissed at him – all Leah did was nod. "Okay."

Hank blinked at her. Leah shrugged.

"I know. I still kind of feel like this isn't right, but…what happened in Florida showed me that as much as I wish it were different, sometime it's going to be them or me. My life's a lot different now – it's more dangerous. And I have to adapt to that. So if it's them or me, I pick me, every time." She grinned fiercely, and there was a sparkle in her eyes. "Also, my boyfriend's got claws and a habit of disemboweling people, so I figure I'm not doing so bad."

Hank had to laugh. "You have a point. All right. Slip them on, let's see how they fit."

* * *

"Let me check, okay? Just a sec. I have to go downstairs, I'll call you back if I lose you."

She exited the elevator, walking into the hangar, and saw Logan standing on a ladder with his head and shoulders inside an open panel on the jet. "Yeah, I'm still here, Dad. Hang on."

She pressed mute on the phone and crossed the hangar. "Logan?"

He peered down at her. "Hey. Everything OK?"

"Well, yes, but we sort of need to make a rather big decision kind of fast. Do you want to meet my dad tomorrow night?"

He almost fell off the ladder. "What?"

She held up the phone. "Dad's passing through. He's in New York City right now and isn't leaving till Friday morning. He's dropping major hints about seeing the school…which is also code for meeting you…"

"Uh…"

She gave him a smile that was more of a grimace. "At least I've only got one parent that you have to deal with?"

He still had the deer-in-headlights look. Leah unmuted the phone. "Hey, Dad? I'm not sure where Logan is right now. Call you back?" She listened for a minute. "Yeah, sure. If it doesn't work to come here, I'll drive down and meet you in the city."

Logan had unfrozen himself and was waving at her to get her attention. "Dad? Hang on again." She muted the phone, and he nodded at her.

"Yeah. Here's good."

She blinked at him. "You're saying yes?"

"Might as well get the first time over with. Done it before and it doesn't really get any easier."

She couldn't help the slow smile that spread across her face. "I promise, my dad's pretty okay. Not exactly intimidating, and definitely not the what-are-your-intentions type."

He chuckled. "I've dealt with that kind too."

Leah unmuted her phone. "Dad? I found him. We're good, yeah. You can come here. Take the train and I'll pick you up."

* * *

Leah had been right.

Her dad was definitely _not_ what anyone would call intimidating.

Dr. Hamilton was one of those scientists who'd wound up cadaverously thin, skin stretched tight over long bones. Combined with his height, topping six feet, and a shock of dark hair the same shade and thickness as his daughter's, the man resembled a scarecrow. Leah was laughing as she got out of the Lexus, her father unfolding himself from the passenger seat and clutching a leather satchel.

Logan – despite his confidence in front of Leah – had enlisted backup, and was sipping whiskey in Charles' study along with the professor when Leah led her father in.

"Dad, this is Professor Charles Xavier, the founder of the school."

Charles wheeled out from behind his desk, extending a hand. "Doctor Hamilton. Welcome."

"Michael, please." The man's voice was hoarse and gravelly, as if he was out of practice at using it. "Pleasure to finally meet you, Professor. I've admired your work for years, even before Leah came here."

"Then you must call me Charles."

"I was curious about the paper you published back in 2008, I was hoping to ask you a few…"

"Dad." Leah lightly touched her father's elbow, encased in – what else? – tweed, and turned him towards the other man in the room. "This is Logan."

"Ah. Right." With an obvious effort, Leah's father tore his attention away from Charles. "So. I believe this is where I'm supposed to threaten you if you don't look after my daughter?"

Leah looked horrified. Logan burst out laughing.

* * *

"You knew this was going to happen," Leah muttered.

Logan smiled smugly.

Her father had said about six more words to Logan before plunging into a deep discussion with Charles about plant mutation and completely ignoring both of them. About half an hour later, they'd been joined by Hank, whom her father also knew – "Doctor McCoy, wonderful to see you again" – and who jumped into the discussion enthusiastically.

"So what did you have to promise Hank and Charles to get them to do this?"

"Who says I promised anything? They knew who your dad is. Probably enjoying themselves just fine."

Leah rolled her eyes and drained her wineglass. "I still think you planned this."

"I think we could sneak off and they wouldn't even notice."

" _No."_

He lifted an eyebrow at her and pressed his lips to her ear. "Broom closet?"

Leah blushed and glared at him. _But it's tempting…especially since I think he's right, and none of them would notice if we vanished._ Instead, she raised her voice. "Hey, Dad? Want a tour of the school?"

They dropped Dr. Hamilton's bag in one of the vacant rooms. Afterwards Leah took the role of tour guide, showing her father her classroom, her office, and then finally taking him out to her greenhouses. Logan had peeled off from them just before, dropping a kiss on her cheek and making noise about changing before they took her father out for dinner in town. _I suppose, a clean flannel shirt does count as changing._ She smiled inwardly, knowing she wouldn't have it any other way.

Dr. Hamilton leaned against her workbench in the last greenhouse. "Leah, I'm so proud of you."

She grinned. "Thanks Dad. You like it?"

Her father nodded slowly, taking in the greenhouse again. "You are exactly where you should be."

For some reason, the comment brought faint tears to her eyes. "I think so, too." She wiped her eyes on her hand. "We've barely talked about you. How are you?"

"Oh, you know me. New book, new projects, same old same old." Dr. Hamilton smiled. "Do you want me to tell you what I think about him now?"

Leah chuckled, trying to hide her nervousness. "I was hoping you'd at least get through dinner before you decided."

"No need." He shook his head. "I saw everything I needed to the minute we walked into that study."

"And?"

Her father sighed. "That is a dangerous man, honey. But you know that, and he looks at you the same way I looked at your mom, and so that's good enough for me."

For the second time, Leah teared up. "Dad…"

He smiled. "Show me your work and then let's go eat."

* * *

She left her father freshening up and headed upstairs to her own rooms, planning to slip into a skirt and sweater.

She froze when she shut the door and saw Logan.

He hadn't been kidding when he said he was going to change. True, he was still wearing jeans, but had thrown on a black shirt…

…and a jacket? She hadn't even known he _owned_ one.

And like an idiot, that was what popped out of her mouth. "I didn't even know you had a jacket."

The thing was perfectly tailored and emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, the thickness of his arms, and his trim waist. He smiled, pleased with the effect he was having on her. "Have to dig it out more often if you like it that much."

She nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh. Yes. Please."

He slipped an arm around her waist and bent to breathe in her ear. "Then wear those black boots tonight for me."

"Deal."

* * *

In the morning, they breakfasted early with Charles and Hank, before taking Dr. Hamilton to the train station. By the end, Charles had invited Leah's father to guest lecture at the school anytime he wanted.

"I'll have to remind him," Leah murmured to Logan. "There's a decent chance he's going to forget entirely."

Her father had fallen asleep in the car on the way home from dinner, a product of a long day of travel and then an excellent meal. They'd – well, mostly Logan – had hauled him into the mansion and tossed him into bed, leaving him peacefully snoring.

And then Logan had locked their door and taken off her boots. Slowly.

She smiled and gave her father a hug as part of the round of goodbyes, even though she was taking him to the station. "Love you, Dad. Thanks for coming."

"Thank you for having me, honey." Dr. Hamilton squeezed her tight, and then turned to Logan. The two men shook hands.

Dr. Hamilton kept hold, even after the handshake. "Good luck, sir." He winked – very uncharacteristically – at Leah, who was looking horrified again. "My girl is a little spitfire at times, but I suspect that's all right for you."

Logan chuckled. "She has to be, with what she deals with from me."

Leah buried her face in her hands. "Come back anytime, Dad…"


	25. Short Skirt, Long Jacket (Cake)

**Author's Note: Okay! So, Constant Readers, a couple of things…**

 **Number One: I've done some revisions to earlier chapters, so if you've been with me since the start, you'll find a chunk of new material in chapter 3, and I've also done some minor tweaks to chapters 4, 5, and 9.**

 **Number Two: You may have noticed that I'm play-listing the chapter titles, and I am absolutely stumped for music for Chapter 24. So if anyone's got suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Springsteen's "Secret Garden" is in the running, for mood more than anything else, but it doesn't feel quite right…**

 **Number Three: Thanks as always for being here and reading! -PC**

* * *

They were packing early in the morning, planning to leave for D.C. after her lecture, when Leah noticed that Logan was filling his overnight bag entirely from what was in her rooms, and hadn't gone downstairs at all.

She folded a shirt into her suitcase and looked around her rooms, contemplating. His shaving kit and toothbrush had been in the bathroom for months. At some point she'd cleared her clutter off the table on the side of the bed he always took, and it had been replaced by his cell phone charger, clock radio (which they were now using exclusively, after he complained that the beeping of her phone alarm hurt his ears), and a small pile of books. He'd taken over a couple of dresser drawers and part of the closet weeks ago, but it had all happened so gradually...

And come to think of it, she really couldn't remember the last time they'd both been in the mansion and he hadn't slept with her. There had been overnight missions, and her trips for outside projects, but if they were both at home, they were sharing her bed. _Shit, I really don't think I've slept alone here since we came back from that first trip to Canada._

Logan glanced over at her. "What?"

She grinned at him, slowly. "I was trying to figure out when you moved in."

He looked almost sheepish. "You noticed that too, huh."

"Well, just now, but yeah." She smiled. "Do you even still have anything downstairs?"

"Some books, maybe. Stuff on the walls. Couple other things."

"Well…" She paused. "When we get back…I think…you could maybe just bring the rest of your stuff up here and let Charles have another dorm room available. If you want to."

He nodded. "Can't remember the last time I didn't sleep here. Seems dumb to just take up the extra space."

"Precisely my thought."

He smiled, sliding an arm around her waist. "You sure you want to put up with me _all_ the time now?"

She furrowed her brow and grinned at him again. "Since I can't remember the last time you didn't sleep with me either…I think it's safe to say I already do put up with you all the time."

* * *

"…so today, we're going to further explore the principles of food production in different types of plant life. If you'd all please reference page 54 of your textbook, and pull the illustration up on your holopads."

Her voice drifted down the hall; Leah was just starting her class. He'd been taking their overnight bags down to the garage so that they could leave for D.C. as soon as she was done, but couldn't resist the opportunity to tease her a little.

He dropped the bags against the wall and quickly made sure his sleeves were rolled up. He knew that seeing his arms drove her absolutely crazy, so he leaned against her open classroom doorway, arms crossed and muscles taut. He didn't realize it, but as he looked at Leah a small smile drifted onto his face.

She saw him before the students did. "Now take a look at this here, which shows…" Her voice trailed off as her eyes swept over him – just like he'd intended.

The students turned to see what had distracted their professor, and tittered. Leah cleared her throat, and he could tell exactly what she was trying, and failing, to look away from. "Logan? Need something?"

"Nope. Just passing by and felt like listening for a minute."

The look on her face said she didn't believe him for a second, that she knew exactly what he was doing, and that he'd be paying for it later. _Can't wait._ "Very well."

He winked at her, to more titters from her class, and continued on down the hall.

* * *

Leah touched the plane down smoothly at Dulles, and they disembarked easily into the private jet terminal. At the last minute, Hank had decided to come with them, and had spent the flight busily arranging meetings with his own government contacts.

"Two heads are better than one," he'd told them. "If, as Charles thinks, there may come a time when we need all possible allies, then it benefits us for me to preserve my Washington relationships as well."

Logan had thought – a touch regretfully – of that world that was no longer real, a world where Hank McCoy was the United States ambassador to the United Nations. _Maybe we'll get there again someday._

Leah glanced around the airport uneasily. They weren't exactly unobtrusive – especially with Hank along – and were already attracting a fair amount of attention. "I'm not sure I like this. Getting out in a hurry isn't exactly an option if anything goes wrong."

Logan nodded grimly. "Need to make a plan tonight. Does anyone you guys work with here know how we came in?"

Hank and Leah looked at each other, trying to think. They both shrugged. "It's possible," Hank finally said. "I don't recall ever specifically mentioning that we were coming in on our own plane, but I can't swear that I didn't."

"Same," Leah admitted.

"Backup plan too, then. In case we can't get back here."

* * *

Hank had been able to secure a second room at the Mandarin Oriental, only a few blocks away from the Department of Agriculture building. He whistled as the three of them walked into the lobby.

"Leah, please tell me that Agriculture is paying for this?"

She grinned. "For me, yeah, but you're on your own. Can't you sweet-talk the State Department? They have people staying in five-star hotels all the time."

"You've got a better chance with Carlson than I do with Agranoff."

"That's not saying much."

As they bickered, the woman behind the desk was checking them in, and she looked up. "Would you like to consider one of the suites for all three of you, as opposed to separate rooms?"

Their "No!" was in perfect unison. Leah shook her head hastily. "Two rooms. _Please."_

* * *

Logan threw his bag on the bed, and whistled, taking in the room. He didn't much care where he was sleeping as long as Leah was next to him, but he could still appreciate luxury, and the Mandarin had it in spades.

Leah stroked a hand over the comforter and sighed, opening her suitcase to unpack. "This is going to feel like sleeping on a cloud."

She hung her pantsuit up in the closet as Logan admired the view from the window. "What time we meeting Hank for dinner?"

"Six. So, an hour or so."

He raised an eyebrow and looked at the bed, and then her, and she laughed, walking over and sliding her arms around him. "You think we've got time?"

He leaned down and kissed her lingeringly. "Nothing wrong with a quickie."

"Mmm…but what if I want to really savor you making love to me on this sinfully soft bed?"

"That's for after dinner," he murmured against her mouth, and lifted her into his arms. "Let's have an appetizer."

Afterwards, they lay together, letting their breathing return to normal before starting to get ready for dinner. Leah rolled onto her side, facing him, and laid a hand on his chest. "Logan?"

"Hmm?"

"I know we were…kind of being all cool about it this morning, like it's no big deal…but I want you to know that it does mean something to me, that we're going to share rooms now. I mean, we've practically been doing it for awhile now already, but…it does feel like a step, for us."

He shifted off his back to face her and brushed her hair back from her face. "I know." He paused, and then continued haltingly. "Sounds cheap to say I've never felt this way about anyone before, but love's different every time." She nodded in agreement. "And with you…hell." He smiled. "You make me better, Leah, but you let me be me. I'd be a dumbass motherfucker if I didn't take every chance I get to keep us going strong."

He didn't often go for the sweet nothings…and when he did, they were always very definitely sweet _somethings_. She rolled over and spooned her back up against his front, wanting the feeling of being wrapped in his strong arms, and he didn't disappoint her. She felt him comb one hand through her hair, still caught in a ponytail, although significantly loosened from what they'd been doing. She'd stopped cutting it after their first week together in Canada, since he obviously loved it so, and it fell to her waist now in a thick dark mass.

"You're right, you know," she said softly. "It really is different every time. And I know for certain that I haven't felt anything even close to this before."

His touch trailed lightly over her bare shoulder and his arm tightened around her waist. She sighed and closed her eyes briefly.

"I don't want to move," she murmured. "Let's tell Hank we're sick, and order room service and just stay like this."

He kissed her ear and slowly stroked her side, all the way from shoulder to waist to thigh. "Hank knows better."

"Oh, he'd know exactly what we were doing."

"Yeah." He kissed her neck and caught the skin lightly between his teeth, feeling Leah shudder in his arms. "Since neither of us can get sick…"

"Food poisoning?"

He laughed. "Love you, Leah."

"Love _you."_

* * *

In the morning, the first roadblock came immediately upon walking into the agriculture building, when the flunky that Carlson had sent down to meet her wasn't aware she had a companion.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Hamilton, the Secretary never mentioned…"

Leah sighed audibly. "I'm sure he didn't. But, I'm mentioning it now. I'm not going anywhere without my…colleague…so either you can find a way to make that happen, or I'm going back to New York and the Secretary can reschedule this meeting. You pick."

"I've only got one visitor pass…"

" _Then please go get another one."_ She smiled. "We'll wait."

The young man scurried off and Logan leaned down to murmur at her. "I know you called and told them I was coming."

"Yeah, but it's government." She rolled her eyes. "I didn't send a form in triplicate, and therefore no one knows about it."

He eyeballed the metal detector guarding the entrance deeper into the building. "You think they have an opt-out?"

Leah groaned. "I didn't even think of it. I hope so? Otherwise this is going to get awkward."

There was, fortunately, an opt-out, and Leah had difficulty restraining a giggle as they finally made it into the elevator with the young official escorting them. She leaned up to Logan's ear, her whisper buffered by the several other bodies in the elevator.

"I think I should take lessons in thoroughness from that security guy. I'm pretty sure he touched you in places even I haven't."

He smiled. "But I like you touching me much better."

* * *

He hated everything about the situation.

He hated Secretary Carlson, who was wearing far too much cologne that was making his nose itch.

He hated the meeting, which mainly seemed to consist of Secretary Carlson slowly paging through a PowerPoint and trying to get Leah to immediately agree to everything he wanted her to do.

And he _hated_ the weak coffee they were serving.

About the only thing he didn't hate was watching Leah, her spine as straight as it'd been four hours ago, calmly sipping coffee and taking notes and saying very little.

Debris from a working lunch littered the table, cups and plates and crumpled chip bags and the remains of sandwiches. Logan had a new appreciation for Leah's stamina: she looked as fresh as she had that morning.

He'd started out sitting at the conference table next to her, with Secretary Carlson and a host of aides glaring at him. Eventually, he'd kicked his chair back to the wall, leaning against it and pulling a book from his jacket. They glared a little less after that, and he'd figured that even if he was reading, he'd be able to smell any change in Leah's scent that meant something wasn't right.

He looked up as the light in the room changed - the screen had gone dark with the end of the PowerPoint.

"…and I think that's really everything," Carlson finally concluded. _About fucking time._

Leah was nodding. "I think I have a good understanding of what's on the agenda for the new quarter," she confirmed. "I'll let you know in a week or so what I think I can do."

"Good, good. It's so critical that we address as many of these projects as possible, what with all the storms already this year."

"Of course."

"I don't suppose it would help to renegotiate your contract? If money is an objection…"

Leah's back stiffened. Logan's nostrils flared as her smell changed.

Something in what the secretary had said had agitated her.

"No, no," she replied. "Just my teaching schedule, you know. That comes first."

"Ah, yes. Well, keep in mind, the door's open if you want to haggle a little…"

Carlson was interrupted by a knock at the door, and one of his aides stuck his head in. "Sir? They're here."

"Very good. Show them in, please." The secretary turned back to Leah. "I hope you'll forgive me – there was a guest that wanted to meet you…"

She stood and looked behind her at Logan, who was also standing, his fists clenched and wrists straight, ready to unsheath his claws. Carlson frowned at him. "I'm sure your colleague wouldn't mind stepping out for a few minutes? Our guest has some sensitive matters to discuss."

"Yeah. I'd mind."

 _We'll know something's up if they try to separate us._ She had a feeling that Logan's words from the night before were about to be proven right. _And since when has Carlson been willing to make any concessions on money? The man's more tight-fisted than…_

Leah's attention turned to the door, where a group of men in suits were entering the conference room and it suddenly felt a lot smaller…

And she then noticed that Carlson was signaling to his staff. And that they were quickly, and quietly, slipping out the other door.

 _Well, shit._

She clenched her fists, the new leather of her gloves squeaking.

"Doctor Hamilton, I presume." The man in the lead – older, tall, and slim; dignified and silver-haired – extended a hand. "Or should I say Demeter? I always get confused in these cases. John Graff."

Leah had been looking thoughtfully puzzled, which cleared instantly at the man's name. She didn't take his hand. "President of GrafFoods. Of course. Last week's project in Florida."

He didn't seem bothered by her refusal of his hand, dropping his arm smoothly. "Yes, our strawberry farms. I was disappointed, Demeter – may I call you Leah? I was very disappointed that you wouldn't even hear us out. I think it'd be very worth your while to consider making a change."

"Considering that your men tried to _abduct_ me, I don't think that's really likely." She jerked her head at the secretary. "How'd you get him to do this? Did you leave out that part? Or the part where one of your men _shot me?_ "

Carlson looked surprised; Graff sighed.

"Your kind are always so dramatic. The secretary simply has an interest in having your services more available. We came to an agreement."

"Agreement?" _I definitely don't like the sound of this._ She could practically hear Logan growling behind her.

Graff gestured at the rest of the men with him, who had the same look as the group in Florida that had tried to grab her and Storm. "Gentlemen? Shoot him." He nodded at Logan, and then indicated Leah. "Bring her. I'll be waiting." He turned and swiftly strode out of the room.

Carlson froze as guns were drawn and pointed at Logan, who rolled his eyes and set himself.

Leah dropped to her knees as the guns went off. Even through the noise of the shots, she heard his claws come out. _Well, some people know their lover's voice anywhere. This is…sort of the same?_ She rolled under the table and came up on the other side next to a potted ficus plant, leaping to her feet. By the time she was up, Logan had already finished healing from the gunshots and was snarling at the group of men in front of him, who were looking alarmed at – well, probably several things.

He'd successfully drawn the attention of the entire group. She decided to give him a little help, and flicked her wrists to activate her gloves, crushing the pods as they hit her palms and quickly filling her hands with the little spores.

Six of them dropped immediately as she flung the stuff into the room, coughing and sneezing, and she left them for Logan to deal with. The other two – strangely, the two closest to her - were less affected; she made a mental note to talk to Hank about that.

Later.

She grabbed the ficus off the floor and shoved her hand into the planter.

 _GROW._

The pot shattered as the little tree drained every ounce of moisture and scrap of nutrition in the soil, and its roots exploded. She took a firm hold on the base of the tree – now weighing nearly forty pounds - and swung it like a bat straight at the heads of the two men in front of her. Two solid cracks, and they went down and didn't get up.

While she'd been doing that, Logan had dispatched the other six with brutal efficiency and was pinning Secretary Carlson against the conference table, his claws an inch from the other man's throat. "Give me one reason why you ain't next, asshole."


	26. Indestructible (Disturbed)

Leah was frantically dialing Hank on her cell as Logan held Secretary Carlson at claw-point. Carlson had yet to come up with an answer to his question, but luckily, Logan had apparently decided that killing a cabinet official was probably a bad idea – at least right now.

She looked over at Logan. "Hank's not answering."

"Could mean anything." He resumed glaring at Carlson. "Was Hank supposed to be part of this clusterfuck? Hank McCoy?"

"I...I…don't…"

Logan growled and Carlson looked even more panicked. "No. I don't think so. No one said anything about anyone other than Doctor Hamilton."

Leah nodded. "We don't have much time before they figure out something's wrong. How do we get out of here? Where are they waiting?"

Carlson merely looked at her, scared out of his mind, and her expression turned sour as she realized just how useless he was going to be. She turned to Logan as she pulled up Hank's itinerary on her phone. "He's supposed to be at the State Department right now. That's a mile away…"

"They've got a helicopter."

Both Leah and Logan looked at Carlson as he made the surprisingly helpful statement. "Here?"

Carlson shook his head. "At Reagan. That was where they were going to take you. Cars, then helicopter."

Leah punched up a map and looked at the route between them and the State Department.

 _A mile. That's not that far to run…_

She cast a glance at their suitcases in the corner – they'd planned to go straight to the airport after the meeting, grabbing Hank along the way. "I've got an idea."

* * *

Leah was easy. She'd packed her gym clothes, and so all she had to do was quickly change and braid up her hair. A sweatshirt even hid her gloves to the point of being unremarkable.

Logan was a lot harder. In the end, they settled on him changing into a T-shirt, slashing a pair of his jeans into cutoffs, and tying a bandanna over his hair. They'd just have to hope no one thought his boots were that weird. Sunglasses for both of them, and Leah popped her earbuds in, leaving the cord unplugged and stuffing it in her sweatshirt.

 _Nothing to see here. Just a couple of joggers._

Carlson had – under protest – cleared the way for them out a back door, and then took off. "Asshole," Leah muttered.

They started running, setting a pace just shy of full-on – too fast, and they'd attract too much attention; too slow, and they'd lose what tiny head start they still had. Luckily, the day was warm and sunny, and they were by no means the only runners on the streets.

They were about halfway to the State Department, just past the Washington Monument, when an engine gunned behind them. Leah turned and saw a black SUV abruptly reverse direction, making an illegal U-turn in the middle of the street and eliciting a series of angry honks.

"Fuck!"

Logan turned and saw the same thing. "Shit."

They both sped up. She saw his wrists straighten and tense, and put out a hand, touching his elbow. "No, wait. The minute you pop the claws, we lose the disguise."

The SUV was stuck in traffic and Leah darted down a side street, Logan hot on her heels. She was still running as she yanked her phone from her pocket and checked the map. "There's not really a good back way. I say we just run for it. Traffic's bad enough…"

"You think they know where we're going?"

Leah's phone beeped and she looked down. "It's Hank!"

The text simply read:

 _Meet at the bird._

She looked up at Logan, still running at her side. "I think he wants to meet at the airport."

They slowed and stopped, ducking into a convenient alley. Leah punched up a new map. "Dulles is way too far to go on foot and I think a cab's out. We could try public transit…keep people around us…"

Logan was looking down the alley. "I've got a better idea."

* * *

"I have to admit I didn't know you could hot-wire a bike like that!"

Leah was driving, despite being the less-skillful on a motorcycle, so that Logan could run defense if they needed it. He almost grinned as he looked at the mangled mess he'd made of the ignition with one claw.

They'd made it a little over halfway to Dulles without incident, the bike's agility allowing them to work well ahead of the SUV that had been tailing them. Leah was just starting to relax, until she noticed…

There were an awful lot of black cars around them.

Expensive-looking ones.

That were gradually working their way closer.

Logan had noticed it too and was shifting his weight, gathering his legs under him until he was crouching on the seat. "If I need to jump, be ready. The weight's gonna shift. Keep going."

"What about you?"

"I'll catch up." He shoved her phone into the neck of her shirt, wedging it under her bra strap, the map application blaring directions at her.

Leah nodded, trusting him, and returned her full attention to the road. Traffic was picking up, and she bent lower over the handlebars…

And heard the crack of a gunshot. _What the fuck?! We're on a highway!_

An instant later, she figured out what Logan had been talking about as he leapt off the seat and the bike wobbled alarmingly. She stabilized it and risked a glance behind her, just long enough to see Logan land on the hood of one of the vehicles and ram his claws into the windshield. Tires squealed.

Leah turned around and concentrated on the road again. _He's got this._

The men in the car barely had time to register that he was on the hood before the windshield glass shattered around his clawed fist. He swiped his claws across the passenger's face, just as the driver attempted to dislodge him by braking. Logan shoved his claws into the upholstery of the passenger seat itself and curled his legs under him, finding the edge of the windshield and bracing his feet so that he was almost lying across the empty space.

The driver had a gun out and emptied three shots into his leg. Logan roared and kicked out, smashing his boot into the man's mouth. He swung his legs into the car through the shattered windshield and rammed his claws into the driver's face.

With the driver dead, the car was seconds from spinning out and starting to roll. He flipped over and back onto his feet and jumped onto the car next to him, leaving a noticeable dent in the roof and causing whoever was driving it to swerve alarmingly. Before they could figure out what was happening, he leapt across another car, and another, casting his eyes out for Leah on the bike.

He picked up speed as the driverless SUV rolled and he heard horns, tires squealing, and a few screams behind him.

There – he saw her.

She slowed as she saw him running alongside her, on the roofs of the cars, and pulled the bike to the side, stopping. He might be able to jump _off_ a moving motorcycle, but _onto_ was another matter entirely, and she wasn't at all confident she could keep the thing stable with three hundred pounds landing on it.

She kicked the bike back into gear and sped off the minute he was back on the seat behind her. Thankfully, their pursuit seemed to be gone for the moment. Logan's arms were around her waist and she relaxed back into his touch for just a second, then yelled over her shoulder.

"What do we do when we get to Dulles?!"

* * *

"Hank. Thank God."

Hank was already in the pilot's seat and cycling the plane for takeoff as Logan and Leah ran up the stairs. He surveyed the two of them from the cockpit – flying their own plane negated the need to go through security, but they'd still had to walk through the smaller private facility, and Logan was looking fairly bloodstained. They certainly hadn't failed to attract attention.

Leah flopped into one of the seats, grumbling. "I really liked that suit." They'd had to leave their bags behind, and for some reason, she wasn't counting on Carlson to ship their stuff back.

Logan sat down across from her and, wordlessly, reached out a hand. She gave him hers and let him fold her small fingers into his much larger palm. He'd washed off most of the blood, and his hand was rough, warm, familiar, and reassuring.

She heard Hank talking in the cockpit and felt the plane start to accelerate for takeoff. After a moment, Logan gave her a crooked smile.

"Guess this means you won't be gone overnight as much?" He sounded hopeful.

She stared at him for a moment and then started to laugh.

* * *

This time, the meeting in Charles' office was immediately after they returned, Logan and Leah and Hank sitting in the study with glasses of whiskey and wine.

Charles tapped his fingers on the desk, sighing heavily. "I don't know what to think of this."

"Think it's pretty obvious. We're on our own now."

Charles nodded at Logan. "Yes, but why now, of all times?"

Leah gulped her wine. "I still think it's my fault."

"Hank was consulting for Washington before you came along."

"That's right." Hank himself nodded. "And no one ever tried anything like this before – and there was ample opportunity."

"So it _is_ something about me." She sighed.

"They wanted Ororo too, in Florida."

Charles looked at Hank. "This may be a job for Cerebro. See if there are other factors in play here. In the meantime though…Leah, I don't want you to leave the mansion until we have a better idea of what's happening. You and Logan were able to defend yourselves today, but even you- " and here he looked at Logan specifically – "aren't completely invulnerable."

"If you think I'm just going to sit here and…"

Leah had started with heat in her voice. Logan was sitting with her on the couch, his thigh pressed solidly against hers, his hand on her leg, and as she spoke she felt that hand tighten. She stopped, looking over at her partner.

It was amazing what some people could say without having to say a damn word.

 _I need you safe._

She sighed and started again. "You're right, Charles. I won't go anywhere. " She tried to smile. "I do have all that stuff to do for Scott and Jean's wedding…and hey, since I won't be traveling for projects for awhile, maybe I can do some special seminars…" The hand on her leg squeezed again and lightly caressed.

Charles was nodding. "I'll begin with Cerebro right away. Perhaps we'll find answers quickly."

* * *

Leah had showered first, and was still sprawled on the bed on her stomach, wrapped in a damp towel, when Logan got out.

He sat down next to her, his own towel still around his waist, and ran a hand over her shoulders, tracing the dark wet tendrils of her hair. Leah rolled onto her side, facing him and smiling faintly.

"Thanks," she murmured. He continued running his fingers over her hair.

"For what?"

"Reminding me to calm down in there."

Logan smiled. "Wish someone had been there to do that for me often enough before."

She twisted around and pushed his towel up, laying her head on his thigh. "Can we bring the rest of your stuff up here tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"I think…" Leah swallowed. "I hope we can all figure out this shit fast. But if we don't, I'm going to start going stir-crazy after awhile. This…this is something new, and I think it'll help."

He traced her collarbone with his fingertips. "Not that new." He paused. "I don't sleep well without you anymore."

"Really? You never told me that."

He shrugged. "Never seemed like that big a deal. But when you're gone...wasn't joking, when I said that about you not being gone overnight as much."

Leah smiled at him, and he moved his hand down to her thigh. "I think you just miss the morning sex."

"That too."

Her breath caught as his hand moved higher and slipped under the edge of the towel. "I don't sleep well without you, either. And I _definitely_ miss the morning sex."

"Told you it was the best way to start the day."

At the first brush of his fingers against her core, Leah whimpered. She rolled over and pushed the towel away, rising up on her knees and straddling Logan's lap, his hand still between her thighs.

Their kiss was messy, Leah's hands shoving his towel away too, and Logan falling back on his back on the bed, sliding his free hand over her hip and up to her breasts as she adjusted herself on top of him. His other hand he left between her legs, almost motionless, and watched her move on his fingers, her eyes closed and her wet hair falling over her shoulder.

After their emotionally charged day, they were raring to go and neither of them was in the mood to wait very long. She lifted up and helped him in, and then sank down on him, wanting everything he could give her. He relaxed for a few moments, watching her move on him, then pulled her down for a kiss, wrapping his arms around her and then rolling them over. He wanted to be in control, wanted to look down and see her, wanted to feel her legs around his waist pulling him deeper…and she did.

The climax, when it happened, rocked them both to the core, Leah panting his name in his ear and him gritting his teeth to keep his shout in check. As the shocks ebbed, he rolled over again, bringing Leah with him, and she rested her head against his chest. _Thank goodness we're on the corner and don't have neighbors._

* * *

The nap hadn't helped.

Jean woke up with a pounding headache to the insistent blinking of light from her phone, telling her she had new messages.

 _Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow._

She picked up the phone and then noticed that the new email had no subject. No "sent from" address. Just the icon of an envelope, and then blank white.

With trepidation, she flicked the icon and opened the message.

 _Target not acquired. Advise of next movements._

Jean stared down at the phone. _Target not acquired?_

Which was all she had time to think before the headache roared again, and the world went black.


	27. Mess is Mine (Vance Joy)

**Author's Note: Surprise! Two in one week! This chapter just put itself together so nicely, and things are going to get a little crazy after this (if you're reading it and thinking it feels like the calm before the storm, you're not wrong…), so I decided to just go ahead and put it up.**

 **Love as always to the constant readers and reviewers! Thanks for sticking around, I adore all your comments and messages and questions! Leah's a better character because of you, so thank you! -PC**

* * *

 _April_

She'd lasted five weeks so far, staying exclusively on the mansion grounds.

It had been fairly easy for Leah to find things to occupy her time, all things considered. Her father had sent her his new book to proofread; that was a wonderful evening project, preferably while on a couch leaning against Logan in some fashion.

As she'd mentioned to Charles, she'd put together a couple of special seminars for day-long Saturday classes. She'd meticulously gone over every inch of the school grounds, taking care of a few minor cases of disease and blight as spring arrived in full force. She'd decided that the kitchen garden needed expanding before the growing season began, and had drafted most of the rest of the staff to help her on a Sunday. Along those lines, she'd had plenty of work to do to get ready for planting season.

She'd spent hours in the lab with Hank designing a new research project focusing on generational mutations in plants. They had had to be clever about crafting the protocols and accounting for the effects of her own mutation, but were excited about the possibilities for publication and beyond.

Ororo was also staying close to home, and the two women had deepened their already-strong friendship over the enforced confinement. They'd spent several happy afternoons working side by side in the greenhouses, starting plants for the garden. She'd also continued to take on more work as deputy headmistress, again in concert with Ororo, delving deeper into the day-to-day management of the school. About a week ago, she'd finally surrendered to the inevitable and moved her things (including her desk, she wasn't about to let go of that) into one of the larger offices.

She'd spent more time in the gym, pushing herself even harder, and had packed on over five pounds of muscle in the last month.

She and Logan had enjoyed the increased time together, too. She suspected that he'd had a word with Charles and Scott after their return from D.C., because all of a sudden, his time away from the mansion was also drastically reduced. They'd moved the rest of his stuff into her – now their – rooms, and every day she felt their relationship strengthening, like a tree continuing to grow its roots deeper.

Her life was busy and happy and fulfilling and close to perfect.

But dammit.

 _I just want to go for a fucking motorcycle ride or something._

Leah sighed, pulling her hands from the soil and looking down at the lilies she was carefully easing along. _Finicky little things._ On a whim, she'd started several beds of lilies of the valley to use for the wedding, and was regretting every minute of it. The big lilies were perfect, but these were taking way too much effort…

There was a soft tap behind her, and Leah turned to see Scott hovering in the doorway. "Hey."

"Hey, mind if I come in and take a look?"

"Sure." She grinned and gestured, surrounded by red rose bushes. "Everything's doing great. I'm going to cut tomorrow, keep everything as fresh as I can."

Scott looked above his head to where the ivy was growing across the ceiling. "You sure you have enough?"

"Well, in the first place, yeah. And in the second?" She spread her hands. "I could, um, fix that, if we were short."

Scott stared at her, then laughed. "Yeah…I suppose. Sorry. Still not used to having the florist be able to grow her own flowers."

Leah chuckled. "Two more days, and then it won't matter whether you're used to it or not, it'll be over."

"Don't remind me." He rolled his eyes. "I can't wait. Wish Kitty could send me forward in time, just to make sure it's all going to be okay."

"How's Jean?"

"She's been…" He searched for the words. "Quiet. Tired – she's been sleeping a lot."

Leah shrugged. "Wedding night jitters?"

As she'd intended, Scott laughed, the faint signs of stress erased from his face for a few minutes. "Yeah…don't think so."

She picked up a dirt-stained piece of paper from her workbench. "Any changes to the list you gave me for the wedding party?"

* * *

She really hadn't thought anyone would remember, with the excitement of the wedding in two days, but she'd underestimated Charles.

"If I could have everyone's attention briefly?"

His voice easily carried across the room, even through the chaos after dinner, and quiet instantly fell.

"Before Saturday's main event, we do have another occasion to celebrate tonight. I'm very certain she thought we wouldn't remember…and likely was hoping to avoid being the center of attention…but Doctor Hamilton has been with us for a year as of today, and I am not going to let anyone forget that."

She blushed and grinned as the room erupted into claps and cheers. Logan's hand, lightly resting on her thigh under the table, squeezed.

"Leah…" Charles looked at her and smiled. "I confess I did almost forget, because it seems as if you've always been here. You give us so much, and we're so grateful. Though I don't think we need to argue over who is the most grateful that you joined us…"

Logan wordlessly raised his hand and the room erupted again, into laughter this time. His arm resting on the back of her chair lifted up, squeezing her shoulders briefly.

"…but thank you. I hope you'll be with us for a long, long time."

She accepted the hugs, the thanks, and the applause with gratitude – but her eyes gleamed as Ororo produced a pink-striped box from under the table. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Indeed." Ororo popped the lid to reveal a small, exquisite chocolate cupcake from one of the bakeries in town. "We heard from _somewhere_ that this is your favorite."

She cast a glance at her partner beside her, who was looking smug, and squeezed his leg under the table. "Thank you. I _might_ even let you have a bite this time."

He lowered his mouth to her ear. "Not what I'm thinking about biting."

She blushed; Scott saw it and guffawed. "Get a room, you two."

* * *

At the end of the table, she watched with hot eyes.

The woman whose body she shared was resigned.

But she was not.

There was nothing to be done about the wedding. That would have to proceed. It made the woman happy, after all, and it wouldn't do to sacrifice that.

But afterwards…

She retreated. Let the woman think she was gone, reabsorbed, no longer separate.

 _All in good time._

Jean blinked, the blinding headache retreating as suddenly as it had come on. As it faded, she felt better than she had in days.

The last few minutes were a blur, but she slowly regained focus. Leah was digging a fork into the cupcake in front of her, smiling in bliss, as the rest of the team began to clear away. Logan, of course, stayed by her side, whispering something in her ear that was making her blush.

She stood, dimly aware of Scott at her side, and smiled at him.

* * *

Leah finished the cupcake slowly, savoring her favorite dessert and _not_ sharing. When it was gone, she turned to Logan. "Want to go out on the patio for awhile?"

He grabbed drinks and she grabbed a sweater; the air was still a little chilly after sunset, even so late in April, and they settled together on the patio swing, one of their favorite places. She settled between his spread legs, her back against his chest and him leaning into the corner of the swing. His lighter flicked and the smell of cigar drifted around them.

They didn't say anything for several minutes; Logan smoked, and Leah sipped her wine, just enjoying the physical contact and warmth. It had always been something they were really good at: being quiet together.

His free arm was around her waist, and she lightly stroked his hand. "Can you believe it's been a year?"

He shook his head. "No. Seems like it was just yesterday I was staring at this…" and his hand slid down and squeezed her bottom, Leah laughing and yelping - "and wondering where the hell you came from and how the fuck I was going to deal with having a raging hard-on every time I saw you."

She laughed again. "Well, if it makes you feel better, it seems like just yesterday I couldn't look at you without wondering what you'd be like in bed…thinking about these big hands…"

"And now?"

"And now I can't look at you without _knowing_ what you're like in bed. And what you can do with these hands." She grinned.

"And I still get a raging hard-on every time I see you." He kissed the top of her head.

"I know." She reached down into his lap and lightly caressed the proof, and he exhaled deeply. "But now you know what to do about it…"

"Damn straight."

She leaned up and kissed him, and it was soft, unhurried, gradually deepening. She felt him caress her ponytail, twining the length around his fingers.

When the kiss ended, she peered up at him. "Hey. I just realized. You've never told me where you were those first two months I was here."

He shrugged. "Guess so, but it's no big secret. I went to Canada for awhile after…after I got back. From 1973. Needed the time to sort things out. Figure out what was different. What was real and what wasn't."

"Just you, up at that cabin?"

"Yep. Good for thinking."

"I can see that."

She relaxed against his chest for a little while longer. "Today's my anniversary here," she mused. "When's ours?"

"Huh?"

"You know…our anniversary?" She thought for a second. "Maybe our first date?"

"When was that?"

"When we went into town on the motorcycle? Before Canada?"

"Oh, yeah. Guess I didn't think of it as a date…"

She stared at him incredulously. "Are you kidding me? That was totally a date."

He was trying and failing to hide a smirk. "Nah, I really just wanted to see if you needed anything…"

"You're a liar." She twisted to look into his face and saw the mirth there. "You ARE a liar!"

He raised his hands. "Guilty. Was thinking I was gonna ask you again the next week. Then that whole thing in the Danger Room happened, and everything sort of got going."

She relaxed again, satisfied in her victory. "Then that's our anniversary. Since it was _absolutely_ our first date."

"First date. Makes me feel like a teenager again."

"Hmm. Well, you know, if you're in the mood…we could make out on this swing like teenagers for awhile and then you could take me to bed."

His answer was to capture her mouth again, and that was plenty of answer for her.

* * *

 _Her birthday is also in the spring. Of course it is. When else would Demeter have been born?_

 _He'd punted at Christmas and gotten her some winter gear for their trips to Canada. Cold-loving, outdoorsy, Minnesota-native Leah was thrilled with the new cross-country skis and boots, but he wants to do better this time._

 _He corners Ororo and enlists her help. They go through Leah's jewelry box on an afternoon when she's in the greenhouse. From there, armed with the knowledge of what she has and likes, it's a fairly simple matter._

 _The expression on her face when she opens the slim box…_

" _They're perfect." She is smiling at him, surprised and delighted, reaching out to take his hand. "Logan…"_

 _He shrugs, trying not to smile too widely. "I heard women like jewelry on their birthdays."_

 _He leans in and kisses her then, and then he stands, pulling her to her feet and lifting her into his arms. In their bedroom –_ their _bedroom, and that's still a thought that sends a jolt through him – he puts her down and strips her clothes off one piece at a time, taking time and delight in pleasing her._

 _He whispers the words against her lips while he's deep inside her and moving achingly slowly. She takes his face in her hands and says it back to him, and he slows down even more, drawing out the time that their bodies are joined._

 _She tells him afterwards that it's the best birthday she's ever had._

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Leah slid the wires through her earlobes and carefully adjusted them. She was wearing Logan's birthday gift for the first time: dangling gold and diamond earrings in the shape of leaves, her hair swept up and back in a braided knot to show them off, and the matching bracelet around her wrist.

And as for her clothes…

On top, green satin, splashed with gold and black streaks. Underneath, more green satin, and black lace too: bra and panties, a matching set.

She'd searched her memory carefully and was sure he hadn't seen this set yet, which was odd, since it was one of her favorites, but she was certain. To keep the surprise, she'd managed to wriggle the zipper of her dress up herself, which she knew was probably cluing him in that she had something in store – she loved asking him to zip her up, and he loved being asked.

She pulled on thigh-highs – another thing he loved. Plain nude, with the faintest gold sheen, and black heels to finish it all off.

She stood up and regarded herself in the mirror.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous."

He was in jeans, black shirt, and jacket, the understated business-casual look suiting him perfectly as he leaned against the doorframe. She smiled, turning to face him, and he wordlessly shook his head.

"Leah…"

She smiled even more widely, pleased by his reaction. "Glad you approve."

He kept staring at her. "Scott and Jean getting married…always thought I'd be emptying Charles' liquor cabinet, if it happened. Maybe winding up in bed afterwards with someone that I didn't give a shit about. Now…you with me…" He crossed the small space between them and placed a light kiss on her neck, carefully avoiding her makeup. "Not how I ever thought today would go."

She took his hand and squeezed it lightly. "Let's head down."


	28. Unforgettable (Nat King Cole)

Her surprise at Logan's physicality had faded a long time ago. It had made sense, when she'd thought about it; everything he was, was tied to his senses, his body. It followed that he'd get his best input from those senses.

So, his need to touch her, the constant desire for physical contact, had stopped surprising her, for the most part.

But he was managing to do it today.

They'd taken seats for the ceremony next to Hank and Ororo. He'd slung his arm over the back of her chair, his hand cupping her shoulder, and interlaced the fingers of his other hand with one of hers. Their entwined hands were resting on his thigh, which in turn pressed against hers.

She was pretty sure he would have picked her up and put her on his lap if he'd thought he could get away with it.

And then Leah thought about it some more.

 _Not how I ever thought today would go._

Okay – she got it. The contact was helping him believe that all this was real – that she wasn't going to just vanish, turning out to be an illusion or something he only thought he was remembering. Maybe that was part of the root of all of the touching too, but it was even more powerful today.

 _Works for me._

She squeezed his hand and he looked over at her and smiled.

* * *

"You may kiss the bride."

Music swelled, and the groom did indeed kiss the bride, to massive cheers, applause, and a few whistles.

The ceremony and reception were both outside on the mansion's extensive grounds. Scott and Jean had elected to keep the affair relatively small, sticking to the members of the team and the school, and a few others. In addition to Leah, they'd also enlisted Ororo's help to ensure that the weather would be perfect…70 degrees and sunny, only a few picturesque puffy clouds in the brilliant blue sky.

It was almost like a family reunion, as members of the team who were no longer full-time at the school returned for the occasion. Charles was clearly over the moon at getting to see so many old friends.

The band started to play, and most of the team started helping shift chairs around; Leah grabbed a glass of champagne and made a quick circuit to check all the flowers. Despite them being cut, they were still mostly alive, and she did what she could to keep everything from wilting. _They'll last the evening, anyway._

Scott and Jean reemerged from the mansion, having disappeared for a little private time directly after the ceremony, and Leah rejoined Hank, Ororo, and Logan in the slowly-forming receiving line.

Logan nodded approvingly at her glass. "Got the right idea there."

Hank was nodding too. "I think you are definitely on to something. Logan?"

"Don't have to ask me twice."

The two men left the line to hit the bar, trusting the women to hold their places. Leah grinned at Ororo and drained her glass, having instructed Logan to grab her a refill.

"Nice work." Leah gestured at the outdoors in general.

"You also." They smiled at each other. "Perhaps we should consider this as our new business venture."

"Yeah?" She thought a moment. "Not a bad idea. Quit this whole X-Men thing and just hire out for weddings? You deal with the weather, I'll deal with the flowers. I've heard ideas I liked a whole lot less."

Ororo chuckled. "I believe we would both get bored."

"Eh, you're probably right. Let's keep it on the back burner, though…"

* * *

The headaches hadn't returned. Neither had the voice. And she'd hadn't had any more of those strange blackouts…

She was starting to believe she'd imagined the whole thing.

Jean braced herself as the line moved and Scott warmly embraced Leah, thanking her again for her work with the flowers. And then it was her turn.

Before she could say anything, Leah extended a hand. "Let me see your bouquet." Jean handed it over, and the faint signs of wilt on the leaves and flowers vanished, everything perking up.

Leah handed it back. "There. It'll look perfect still for all the pictures."

"Thank you."

Jean's voice was soft, and Leah peered at her curiously. After a moment, she offered a smile. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Jean repeated. There was another awkward pause. "I'm…I'm sorry, Leah."

"For what?"

"I haven't been fair to you at all. And I'm sorry for it."

Leah kept her jaw from dropping and instead tried to smile again. "Well, thanks, and no you haven't, but we can talk about that later. You should enjoy today."

She extended a hand and Jean slowly took it. "Thank you."

As Leah walked away, Jean's temples throbbed. Black rushed in.

* * *

His nostrils flared. Something was wrong.

The air was too hot. Way too hot.

His skin prickled.

Logan looked at Jean, now directly in front of him, and was startled by the brightness of her eyes, the flush to her skin.

"Logan."

Her voice sounded odd. Was there an echo?

"Hey Jean. Congratulations."

Hesitantly he reached out and hugged her, and almost jumped back in surprise. The heat was coming from _her._

And now that he looked, the bouquet she was holding was starting to wilt again, even though he'd seen Leah just fix it…

 _What the hell?_

Jean tilted her head to the side. "You are happy."

"Uh…yeah. Yeah, I am."

"Interesting."

He looked over and saw – gratefully – that Hank, just behind him, had finished talking to Scott. "Guess I should get out of the way, huh? Keep things moving?"

She didn't reply, and he beat a hasty retreat, catching up to Leah and slipping his arm around her waist, knocking back a swig of the whiskey he was still holding. Glancing behind him, he saw that Jean's overly-bright eyes were still fixed on him.

"Hey." Leah tapped his hand, resting on her hip. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He pulled his attention back and smiled down at her, breathing in the scent of her hair. "Let's grab Hank and Ororo and then get something to eat."

* * *

The sun might be on its way down in the sky, but Leah was absolutely radiant in his arms. She'd danced with Hank, Peter Maximoff, and even Scott on the fast songs, but he'd claimed her for every slow dance.

"Think I'm starting to like dancing."

Leah smiled at his comment. "You've certainly been more willing than at Christmas…"

"Didn't want Hank to get lonely then." Logan grinned, looking to his left to where Hank was dancing with Ororo. "What do you think?"

"He's still refusing to tell me anything. But I don't know if you noticed…somewhere along the way, it's definitely turned into the four of us hanging around together. I think we should try and get them out on a couple date. Dinner in town or something." She sighed. "Whenever I can actually leave again."

He was torn between wanting her as protected as possible, and empathizing with his stir-crazy lover. "Hopefully not too much longer. Weather's getting good enough for some long bike rides."

"Charles still hasn't found anything." Leah sighed again, and he squeezed her waist.

"Hey." She looked back up at him. "You being safe is worth a little cabin fever, right?"

"Right, but Logan, it's summer…speaking of cabins, we should be thinking about when we're going north, not how much longer I'm stuck here..."

He echoed her sigh. "Yeah. Okay. Tell you what - let's talk to Charles. See what he thinks about us going to Canada for a week during the June break. Just us, place is hard to find, you're probably almost as safe as here. Can't hurt, right?"

She smiled, pleased by the idea. "Right. Being in another country might actually be good protection. I doubt I'm important enough to risk an international incident. And a week away would be heaven…sleep in, get caught up for the summer term…"

"Figure out where in that cabin we haven't had sex…"

Leah laughed. "This'll be, what, our third time there? No, fourth. I think we've pretty much covered it."

"Especially after that first trip." He smiled and chuckled. "Fuck, I couldn't control myself. I was a goddamned horny teenager around you. All I had to do was look at you to want to tear your pants off."

"And all of that is different from now…how, exactly?"

"Sometimes you wear skirts."

Leah laughed, working hard to keep the volume down, and he pulled her tighter to him as the song ended.

"Leah…"

"Hm?"

Maybe it was the whole wedding thing getting him in the mood, but the cliché didn't bother him: he took her hand that he was still holding, and pulled it to his chest. "You know it already, but…whatever I got that passes for a heart…it's yours. The whole damn thing."

She smiled, and curled her fingers over his shirt. "Are you getting sentimental because it's a wedding?"

"Maybe. And…just good, to tell you. So you know."

She didn't care about how public it was; that deserved a kiss, and she stretched up and gave it to him, rising on her tiptoes and feeling his arms tighten around her to hold her against him.

When she felt like she'd kissed him enough – for the moment – she backed off and whispered against his lips. "How long till we can leave?"

"Not soon enough."

"Should we go find a broom closet?"

"No." He leaned back slightly to look into her eyes. "Tonight…whenever we get out of here, we're going upstairs and locking the door and making love till the fucking sun comes up. So we'll wait till we can actually go to bed."

His arms had tightened around her waist again until he was breathing the words against her mouth. She smiled. "This is becoming a theme, staying up all night after parties."

"Figure it's good for us. Keep the fire burning."

Leah laughed. "I don't think that's exactly one of our problems."

"Better be safe…"

"Speaking of that, though, there's a surprise for you under my dress…"

"Mmm. I liked the last one." He leaned down and kissed her again, hard and fierce and fast. "You better remind me not to rip your dress off you. I might forget."

"Don't rip my dress off me."

"Okay."

"Let's go dance again."

"Okay."

* * *

She fumbled behind her, trying to work the key in the lock while Logan was kissing her. He'd started on the way up the stairs, which had made for a very interesting ascent, and now had her backed against their door while she was trying to open it.

 _I want to tell him this is making it take longer, but then he'd have to stop…_

Leah abandoned her efforts to open the door and shoved her hands into Logan's hair instead, holding him in the kiss, and felt his arms tighten around her. After a moment, one arm left her waist, and she heard metallic fumbling – he was taking a turn at the lock.

She stumbled back abruptly as he got the door open, both of them laughing and almost losing their balance, finally breaking their kiss.

Once they were both inside, Leah shut the door slowly and locked it.

 _We're making love till the fucking sun comes up._

He had walked past her and was standing in the middle of the front room, and caught her eye. Deliberately, he shrugged out of his jacket.

Leah smiled and leaned against the door.

He prowled toward her, unbuttoning his shirt, until he tossed it on the floor just in front of her.

She slipped out of her heels. He kicked off his boots.

His undershirt landed on the floor.

She sucked in a breath at the sight of his body. Shit, yes, she saw it every night, and every morning – but it was worth marveling over, jeans slung low on his hips, every muscle defined and cut as if with a knife.

He hadn't even touched her yet. She was done waiting.

She stepped away from the door and into his arms.

 _Till the fucking sun comes up._

His fingers trailed down her spine, then back up, and she felt him gently cup her face. His kiss was so soft, a contrast to the gentle abrasion of his sideburns against her cheeks; his tongue touched hers almost delicately as his mouth opened, retreating as he turned his head to change the angle of the kiss, and then coming back to lightly touch again. She brushed her fingers over his shoulders, down his chest, still appreciating every inch of him.

"You're still dressed," he murmured, and his hands found her zipper.

The fabric pooled at her feet and she stepped free of it. His eyes were hot as they swept from head to foot.

Slowly, he brought his hands up, tracing her breasts through the satin and lace. "You…are so fucking beautiful."

She leaned up, wanting his kiss, and he gave it to her while his touch on her breasts grew more insistent, firmly kneading them in his palms, and she could feel the heat of his hands through the thin fabric. He reached behind her and unfastened the clasp, tossing the bra to the side, and then resettled his hands on her, the calluses on his fingers rasping against the tender skin.

He backed her into the bedroom and against the bed, and she sat down as the backs of her thighs hit the mattress, scooting up and twisting to lie against the pillows as he followed her down without breaking their kiss. His hands stroked down her sides and pulled her legs around his waist as he settled himself on top of her, kissing his way down her neck and over her collarbone, until his mouth finally found her breasts.

Leah cried out as his teeth nipped first, pulling the nipple into hardness, and then his mouth covered her. His hand was on her other breast and she arched up, threading her fingers into his hair and tightening her legs around him.

 _More. More. More._

He pushed up to kiss her and then slid down her body, lips moving slowly over her skin, caressing her stomach and pausing at the satin scrap of underwear. He teased her then, nipping along the waistband and guiding her thighs off his waist and apart, her legs – still in her stockings – over his shoulders.

"Logan…" She reached down, trying to touch him, but he dodged her hands and one arm reached up to push her back on the bed.

"You first, darlin'," he murmured against her inner thigh, kissing the skin. "You first."

At some point he got rid of her panties. She had absolutely no idea when or how, because suddenly his tongue was swirling over her in a way that drove away conscious thought, and it was just his mouth – and fingers – on her. He teased her mercilessly, occasionally lifting away and applying his mouth to thigh or stomach or breast, only to return and stoke her arousal even higher. She was sobbing, whimpering, soaking wet for him, and cursing when he finally slipped his fingers inside her, and came almost instantly at the feeling, biting the pillow.

He pulled his fingers out and she shoved him back on the bed, swiftly getting rid of the rest of his clothes and settling down next to his lap. He was already rock hard for her, and she licked a drop of moisture from the tip of him, making him shudder.

"Leah…"

"My turn now."

She slowly took him in her mouth but had barely gotten started when he yanked at her hair. "Not like this," he groaned. "Want you on top of me…"

Well, when he put it like that, she wasn't going to argue. She was still wearing her damn stockings as she straddled him and sank down, his fingers curling over her hips and guiding her movement. Her hair was half down already and he pulled it the rest of the way free, sighing with delight as it cascaded over her breasts and down her back.

She leaned over him, changing her angle and letting her thigh muscles do the work, and he groaned again, reaching up to touch her cheek with one hand. "Don't fucking stop, Leah…"

"I won't," she whispered. "Touch me Logan…please…"

He did and she started moaning and didn't stop, speeding up her rhythm as the knot of pleasure tightened between her legs at the touch of his fingers, drawing tighter and tighter until she shattered and he snarled, spending himself at the feeling of her climax.

She curled up against his side as he wrapped an arm around her, holding her in afterglow.

"Mmm." She nestled closer, making incoherent sounds of contentment, and felt him kiss her temple.

"Pretty much," he rumbled.

She yawned and he chuckled. "Don't start that…I meant it, I'm keeping you up till dawn…"

Leah laughed. "Promises, promises…"

"Hmmm?" He took her hand from where it rested on his chest and guided it down to his lap, showing her that he was already fully prepared to keep that promise. Leah raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I'm going to go ahead and say that keeping the fire burning is definitely not a problem for us."

* * *

After finally falling asleep at dawn, it was noon before they got up. Even then, Logan was still lounging in bed when Leah came out of the shower, wrapped in a towel and starting the long process of tousling her hair dry.

He was sipping coffee, and motioned to a second mug on the bedside table. She groaned in thanks, sitting on the bed and leaning over to kiss him, feeling his hand land on her thigh and creep under the edge of the towel. She hummed happily.

"I love Sundays."

"Hmmm." He kissed her again. "People need to get married more often, if it means we get to sleep till noon with no one bugging us."

She grinned as she sat up, continuing to towel at her hair. "Did you like your surprise?"

"Mmm. Yeah." He smiled, casting his eye over the clothes scattered across the floor. "Liked that set the first time. Like it even more now."

Leah paused, the towel coming to rest in her hands. "What do you mean the first time?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You brought that to Canada on our first trip."

"Yeah, but…I never wore it…"

"Yeah you did." He was staring at her, confused and a little worried. "I remember, Leah."

She was shaking her head. "No, I never did…" She tried to smile. "You never needed anything extra…"

"I know you wore it. I _know_ it."

"Okay." Leah took a deep breath, the scientist in her taking over. "Let's be logical about this. When did I wear it, exactly?"

He thought for a moment, slowly sifting through each night of their first week together at the cabin. "We came back on Saturday."

"Right."

"Then it was…" He counted on his fingers, silently ticking the days off. "Thursday night."

"Okay. What else special did we do that day?"

"It was the day after we'd decided. That we were gonna be together. I kissed you a lot." He frowned in frustration, shrugging. "We had sex a couple times. Once on the kitchen table. I think you made chicken something for dinner?"

"Chicken stew? I remember that."

She cast her thoughts back to that night. She remembered making it, chicken and rice and vegetables. "And brownies, right? That I almost burned."

"Yeah. Right. I went out to smoke after dinner. Came back in and there you were on the couch, in that bra."

She thought again. Her face drained of color as her eyes flew to his face.

"Logan. I don't remember _anything_ about that night after we had dinner. _Nothing at all."_


	29. Rise (Katy Perry)

He could smell her starting to panic and grabbed her hands.

"Leah. Look at me."

She swallowed, locking her eyes on his face, her pupils widening. He could hear and feel her heart speeding up. "Keep looking at me, baby. I got you. It's okay. Breathe."

She drew in a shuddering breath. "Good. Again."

He was gripping her hands so tightly that he'd worry about bruising anyone else. "Again. Keep breathing. Keep looking at me. Feel my hands. I've got you."

He kept telling her to breathe, to keep looking at him, and heard her heart start to slow down, her breaths becoming less ragged. "Better?"

"Yeah. Better."

He kept a tight grip on her hands. "Tell me."

"It's just…it's like there's a hole, right there. I remember making dinner, I remember you going out to smoke and then…nothing. Nothing till the next morning when we woke up…I don't remember going upstairs, going to bed…"

His mouth was tight. "Get dressed. We're going to Charles. Right now."

* * *

Charles' expression grew as grim as Logan's as they explained.

Silence fell in the room as they finally finished. Charles sat for a moment, not saying anything.

"Leah…I know…" The Professor paused. "I know that those memories are very private, and normally I would never ask, but it would help if I could look for myself. Would you allow me?"

They were in Charles' study, and she thought – with terrifying clarity – that the weather should be matching the turmoil inside her. _It should be storms and lightning and thunder, not this lazy afternoon sunlight coming in through the windows._

Leah nodded and tried to smile. "It's okay. I figured."

"Logan, I'll need your assistance as well. If Leah is truly missing those memories, it will help to see them as they should be."

"Who you want first?"

"Leah, please."

Logan didn't let go of her hand as she scooted to the edge of her chair, getting closer to Charles. "What do I need to do?"

"Just relax." Charles extended his fingers towards her head.

 _He watches, a silent observer, as Leah cuts chicken up and sautés it, rice bubbling in a separate pot on the stove. He's standing by her – he has enough control and experience to watch from the outside, as opposed to from inside Leah's head. He can see Logan over her shoulder, adding logs to the fireplace, and a part of his mind appreciates the simple but comfortable surroundings._

 _Logan stands up and sniffs. "Something burning?"_

" _Yikes!"_

 _Leah bends over and opens the oven door on the wood stove, carefully extracting a small pan of what looks like chocolate cake, or maybe brownies. "It doesn't look like it's too bad…"_

 _Logan sniffs again. "Nah. Caught it in time. Maybe just a little on the bottom."_

" _Thanks." She smiles at him. "You're so useful."_

 _He grins –_ grins _, and it still looks a little strange on his face at this point in time, even though Charles has gotten used to seeing it_ _\- at Leah. "Just for that, huh?"_

" _Well…" Her expression grows teasing as he walks towards her. "Maybe for a few other things."_

 _They kiss, and Charles averts his eyes out of courtesy to the both of them. He finds himself doing so several more times as Leah cuts up vegetables and Logan wraps his arms around her from behind, and she laughs at him and complains that he's making dinner take longer and she's already starving._

 _He doesn't let go of her, and she hums contentedly as his hands stroke over her sides and hips, and it's clear that her complaints are not really complaints._

 _After they eat, they stand and clean up, working well together in the small kitchen. Charles is, perhaps, just a tiny bit envious of the strong bond that he can already see growing between the two of them._

 _And then he feels something change._

 _Logan is shrugging on his jacket and pulling out a cigar as Leah dries her hands. "You coming out?"_

" _Nah, you go ahead. I'll stay inside."_

 _He drops a kiss on her lips and then heads out the door._

 _Everything goes black. Charles floats in the dark._

 _Time passes._

 _And then it's morning, and he's upstairs, and Leah's waking up, the outlines of the memory blurry from sleep and gradually becoming clearer. Logan is wrapped around her and even from his position outside her, Charles can feel the heaviness of limbs around Leah's waist and legs._

 _Logan stirs as well and pulls her more tightly against him, and Charles doesn't have to be a genius to figure out how they like to start their day. He's seen enough._

Charles opened his eyes and dropped his hand.

Leah's eyes fluttered open a second later. "Well?"

Charles drew in a breath. "There is definitely something missing. I felt…it's difficult to explain, but I felt the _time_. If you had just forgotten, it would not be like that. The place, the structure where it should be, is all there. You made memories. But they're gone."

"How the fuck does that happen?"

"There…may be a number of possibilities, Logan. But let me look at you now…"

Charles and Logan both closed their eyes, Charles once again extending his fingers, this time towards Logan's temple. Leah sat quietly, watching them, her hand still tightly enfolded in Logan's.

And a very nasty suspicion began to grow in her mind.

They seemed to come out more quickly and abruptly, and she had a sneaking feeling that Charles had cut things off before the memories got too intimate.

Charles shook his head. "Logan's memories are very much real. Leah, there's no doubt; yours are missing."

"'Kay. So, again, how the fuck does that happen?"

Leah herself was silent and Charles looked at her with an expression of concern. "Leah?"

Logan bulled forward. "We're all thinking the same thing, so I'm just fucking saying it. There's only one person in this goddamn mansion that would want to hurt Leah and would be able to steal her memories."

Leah nodded, finally speaking. "Jean."

"There may be other explanations…"

"For fuck's sake, Charles."

The professor paused, and when he finally replied to Logan, his tone was measured. "I agree that that is a likely possibility given what we know."

Leah was shaking her head. "That bitch had the guts to _apologize_ to me yesterday for being unfair to me…"

 _Snikt._

She looked down and saw that Logan's claws were out – just on his left hand, he'd at least had enough control to not stab her. She squeezed his right hand. "It's okay."

"No it's fucking not." Logan glared at Charles, his claws still out. "Jean was acting weird yesterday, Charles. There was something…after the ceremony…thought I was imagining things, but it was…" He shook his head. "I dunno. It was like…she was overheating…"

Leah's head whipped around so fast that he felt the end of her ponytail brush his arm before it settled back over her shoulder. "What'd you just say? Strange heat?"

"Yeah. In the receiving line. You'd walked away."

Leah turned back to Charles. "That happened a few weeks ago to me. She came to the greenhouse and I felt the same thing. Heat. I thought I was imagining it too…"

Charles' mouth tightened. Logan sniffed.

"You know something."

Charles' voice seemed to come from very far away. "I had almost forgotten…"

 _He is lying on the floor. Bleeding. Dying._

 _Apocalypse is crushing the life from him. All his strength, all his confidence…means nothing._

 _And then he feels it. Her._

" _You are alone. And I….am…not."_

 _And then it is fire. Song. Fury. The explosion of pure power, enough to defeat even this enemy._

Logan's eyes had gone wide. "Phoenix."

Charles and Leah looked at him. "What?"

"It's…something from before. Before everything changed. Charles – I told you that before, you'd blocked Jean's powers. You didn't this time. But it sounds like…from what you're saying…the Phoenix is still there."

Leah shook her head. "I'm lost."

Logan was still looking at Charles. "You…the you, before…called it a creature of desire, joy, and rage."

"Raw telepathic and telekinetic power." Charles tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. "A creation of pure emotion, the best and the worst of Jean's personality. I've seen it…only that once. In a way, it _is_ her, but it's also very separate. It's how her mind copes with that sheer amount of power."

Leah threw her hands in the air. "Will someone please get me a drink? Because I think that's the only way I'm going to get through this conversation."

"Leah, if we're right, what you and Logan have experienced is this separate personality of Jean's. Your relationship brought it to the fore; her jealousy and envy allowed this Phoenix to manifest. It saved our lives against Apocalypse, but that personality never entirely went away."

"Great."

"So what, she's just gonna keep on with this?" Logan gripped Leah's hand tighter.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly thrilled about the idea of my _memories getting stolen_ …which, by the way, someone needs to go ahead and say is _really fucking sick…_ "

Charles pursed his lips. "Bluntly, the Phoenix is more powerful than I am. We will have to restrain Jean before it manifests."

"And we're planning on doing this how?"

"I think if we speak to her, she may be able to exert control over the Phoenix's manifestation. Leah, if she apologized to you, it sounds as if there may be conflict between the personalities; that Jean herself realizes that what the Phoenix is doing is wrong."

"All she said was that she hadn't been fair to me, she didn't mention anything about stealing my memories…"

"It's a place to start." Charles looked at her sternly. "I want to speak to her before we do anything else. We owe her that much. And there is still a possibility – however remote – that she has nothing to do with this and that whatever is happening has another explanation."

Logan slowly retracted his claws. "You want to do this now?"

Leah looked at both men. "Assuming we're right, we know now. If we wait, we increase the chance that she'll find out that we know. From what the two of you are saying, there might be an advantage in her not having time to prepare."

"Agreed. I'll call her now." Charles looked back at both of them. "Are you ready in case this gets…difficult?"

"Oh yeah."

* * *

Jean approached the study door and stopped dead.

 _Oh no._

Charles. Logan. Leah.

 _They know._

She started to tremble. And the voice spoke.

 _I am here. We are ready._

"Jean. Sit down, please."

Logan and Leah had shifted to the couch. Jean took one of the empty chairs in front of Charles' desk.

"Professor?"

"Jean, Leah came to see me this afternoon and it seems she is missing some memories that are very important to her. Would you know anything about that?"

"Why would I?" She glanced at Leah. "I'm sorry, but I don't."

Logan sniffed. "You're lying."

Charles shot a look over at the other man. "Jean, it would be best…if you know…please tell us. We simply want to know the truth."

"But I don't." She crossed her legs at the ankles, prim and proper. "Logan, I don't know why you think I'm lying, but I know nothing about this."

He sniffed again. "You smell like lies. Your heart's beating faster. You're tense. You're breathing harder. That's why."

Charles added. "And besides me, there is no one else who could have done this. Please, Jean. Tell the truth."

"I am!" She shot to her feet, agitated now. "Professor…believe me."

Leah, who had been silent up till then, also stood.

She was shorter than Jean, and even more so due to the other woman's three-inch heels. Jean was wearing an elegant red linen dress; Leah had thrown on clothes in a hurry after Logan had told her to get dressed. She was wearing old jeans, practical brown lace-up boots that reached to her knees, and a black T-shirt proclaiming that she was young, scrappy, and hungry.

But Jean shrank into herself as Leah approached.

" _Give it back you bitch."_

Leah's hands were clenched into fists at her sides, and Logan felt a fierce swell of pride as he looked at his partner. Terror – Leah was outclassed by Jean, and he knew it – but also pride.

 _Goddamn I picked the right woman._

Jean was shaking her head. "Stay away. You don't understand…stay back."

"Fuck that. Give it back."

"I…"

Jean's vision was wavering, the headache pounding. The voice was shrieking in her head.

 _Let me take over. I will deal with this._

"No..."

Leah snarled. "I want it back."

 _I will destroy her._

The headache roared and black engulfed Jean's vision.

" _No."_

Jean's eyes burst into flame. The air shimmered with heat around her.

Leah took a step back. _Oh, shit._

" _It belongs to me now. It's mine. And anything else I choose to take."_

Leah gulped. "So you did take it." She cast a look at Charles. _Well, that whole plan just went to crap, what do we do now?_

" _Of course. She is so envious of you. She wanted to hurt you. And I wanted to make her happy."_

Leah looked at the men, who were both staring at Jean.

And she got pissed. Pissed for herself; pissed for Logan, her partner, who deserved some goddamn happiness after everything he'd been through, not even including what this psycho had done to his heart…even, slightly, pissed for Scott, who was now legally stuck with this crazy woman...

"You. Fucking. Bitch."

Leah turned and in one smooth movement grabbed the little potted vine plant off Charles' desk, and shoved her hand into the dirt.

 _GROW._

The vines exploded and wrapped around Jean's wrists. Logan was on his feet and Charles was raising a hand for calm and _she didn't care._

Jean's eyes flared bright orange. Leah shut hers and dived deeper into her power than she ever had, and asked the plant for help. She told it what she wanted.

And there was the sound of shattering.

Her eyes opened and she saw, with a great deal of satisfaction and a slight twinge of regret – _sorry Charles_ – that the vines had contracted and flung Jean through the study window.

She leapt through the opening in the glass and rolled, her minor scratches healing as she regained her feet. Jean was already standing.

"You're on my ground now, bitch," Leah breathed, and rammed her hands into the earth.


	30. Enemies (Shinedown)

**Author's Note: Heck yeah, here we go! I know you've all been waiting for this (orangeporqupine, told you I'd do it!) and I'm just as excited to get it out there!**

 **And yes, for those who caught it, the shirt described in Chapter 29 that Leah** _ **Hamilton**_ **is wearing (and still wearing in this chapter) is indeed a "Hamilton" shirt. BECAUSE I COULD. XD -PC**

* * *

Demeter's heart was racing as she sank deep into the earth. _First order of business: offense._

* * *

 _It takes her almost a full day to find the right roots._

 _She guilts Scott into helping her, considering that destroying the tree was his fault to begin with. She parks herself near the stump of the old tree and sits there, her hands sunk in the earth, getting a feel for it._

 _It's late in the afternoon when she finds what she's looking for – not just the remnants of the roots, but enough life to start again._

 _She does the actual work under cover of night, dispatching Scott and Logan to keep Charles distracted, and spends three hours carefully regrowing the tree that Scott had fried. A gift._

 _The expression on Charles' face in the morning, as he beholds his grandfather's oak tree, makes all the work worth it._

* * *

Logan and Charles watched from the shattered window as Leah's power surged through the ground, the grass and other plant life growing several feet within the space of a second and wrapping around Jean.

Logan's body tensed, claws already out, and he was half a second from leaping through the window. "She's gonna get killed."

"Wait, Logan!" Charles put a hand up. "Others are on their way. We need help."

"Like hell am I leaving her alone out there."

He tensed again, preparing to jump, but was interrupted again by the arrival of Ororo, Hank, and Scott.

"What's happen-"

A savage cry sounded from outside and cut off Scott's question. Logan's head whipped around.

 _Oh fuck me._

* * *

The grass wasn't going to keep the Phoenix confined for long, and Demeter could already see it starting to smolder. She pushed a sense of apology and thanks through her power, and cast about for her next plan.

 _The oak tree._

She'd only have seconds to manage it once her hands came out of the earth. Quickly, she sent a push of power to the huge tree, preparing what she needed.

 _Here we go._

She yanked her hands from the ground and sprinted for the oak, confirming with her eyes what she'd already known through her power: one of the lower limbs had grown to the ground right in her path, providing a ramp for her to run up into the branches. She heard a primal scream of victory behind her and felt a blast of heat at her back, and put on an extra burst of speed, her boots hitting bark and carrying her upwards. Once she was up on the limb itself – twenty feet above the ground – she slammed a hand against the trunk, pulling her ramp back up behind her.

Demeter jumped and dropped, falling down to straddle the tree limb and grunting at the impact. She straightened her spine, fully laying it against the trunk, and slapped both hands on the bark of the limb.

 _Grow, my friend._

She'd seen Jean in action and knew she was outgunned even under normal circumstances, and could only guess at what the Phoenix was going to add to an already-formidable offensive capability. So – for the moment – she didn't even try.

Bark wrapped around Demeter's hands and calves and torso, holding her securely to the tree and keeping her from being pulled away or thrown. The bark thickened, roughened, almost petrifying – protection from heat.

As if on cue, she felt a tug at her body – telekinesis, trying to yank her off the tree. She wrapped her power more securely around the tree bark, and didn't budge.

She grinned fiercely as the Phoenix floated into view, hovering a few feet above the ground but still below her branch.

 _I'm ready for you, bitch._

"Give it back and this ends, Jean," she called down.

" _Why would I do that?"_

"Uh…" She shrugged. "Well, you've got me there, since you stole my memory in the first place…"

" _Precisely."_

Demeter pushed her consciousness back into the tree.

 _Hit this crazy..._

Right about then, she felt the heat bloom in her head.

Charles had explained to her a long time ago about psychic assault, and even trained her in rudimentary defense. But nothing could have prepared her for the sheer blast of power that ripped into her.

Demeter screamed and was answered by a savage roar.

* * *

Wolverine leapt out of the window the moment he heard Demeter's scream, claws out, his animal instincts taking over to protect his mate. Charles whirled around. "Hank, Cerebro, now. Storm, go out there, help them. Scott…"

" _That's my wife out there."_

Storm had already taken off as Charles tried to reason with Scott. "It appears that Jean may not be…entirely herself at the moment. She would never forgive herself if anything happened to you because of that…"

"Professor…"

"We don't have time for this." Charles turned to Hank. "Let's go."

"I'm staying here."

"Scott, if you stay, promise me you'll stay _right here_. Do not leave. For your own safety, and Jean's, let the others handle this."

"Fine."

Charles realized the other man was lying, but they were out of time. He turned his chair and headed for the door, Hank alongside him.

* * *

It was almost laughable how easily the Phoenix batted Wolverine aside mid-leap, tossing him smack into the trunk of the tree that Demeter was still half-wrapped up in, but the momentary distraction provided enough time. She screamed again – in triumph this time – and shoved her power deeper into the oak.

A heavy branch creaked and groaned, bending. It extended and swatted the Phoenix.

Wolverine's jaw dropped as he was picking himself up.

Demeter had hit the Phoenix. With a fucking _tree._

 _Goddamn._

The woman crumpled to the ground, and an instant later, it began to snow.

Not snow – pollen. Demeter was making the oak pollinate.

Roots shot out of the ground at the same time and wrapped around the Phoenix's ankles, holding her to the earth. Dimly, through the cloud of pollen, he could see Storm zooming in from the air, and an instant later, a wind tunnel formed and scooped up the pollen, turning it into a cyclone around the Phoenix. He saw the figure bend…coughing. Coughing?

 _Allergies. She's making the fucking Phoenix have a fucking allergy attack._

 _Holy shit. I love you, lady._

But he could see the air smoldering as the Phoenix fought back, burning away Demeter's pollen and singeing the roots. Demeter screamed again and he realized what had happened – she was going so deep into the oak with her power – she would have to, to be able to move it - that she was feeling the burns as if it were her own body.

Charles' voice sounded in his head. _Keep her distracted, all of you. If I can breach her defenses and we can render her unconscious, I believe I can keep her there with Cerebro's help._

"Ice her, Storm!" he yelled, hoping she could hear him over the wind. "Ice her!"

Both Storm and Demeter must have heard him. He prepared to leap again as a cloud formed over the Phoenix and ice began to rain down – and at the same time, the tree limb drew back again and cracked across the Phoenix's back.

She folded, but caught herself, and rose to her feet.

* * *

It was like looking in a mirror.

Jean faced off against herself – but not herself.

This self was all fire and light, and faint strains of something like a song. Its – her? – eyes were flames; its hair burned; its skin radiated light and heat.

They wore the same dress. The same face.

She sat in a chair, with the other self standing in front of her. The room around them was black, shiny black, like black glass or obsidian. She was tied to the chair with ropes of light.

The vision of herself crossed her arms. _I told you to let me deal with this. We are stronger when we work together._

"Who are you?"

 _I am you._

"I don't believe you."

 _You made me. I am you, simply you. No illusions, no defenses, no pretty constructs. Just you, and what you want and what you feel._

A faint vibration echoed through the room. Her other self looked slightly annoyed.

"What's happening out there? What are you doing?"

 _If you join with me again, this will end sooner._

"Again?"

 _You could not face remembering. I hid it from you. But we have been working together for quite some time._

The headaches. The blackouts.

"What have you done?"

 _We. What have we done._

Jean swallowed. "Fine. What have _we_ done?"

 _Only what you want. You want her gone. Together we work to make it so._

"Leah." Jean caught her breath. "I don't…I didn't…"

 _Yes, you did. Yes, you do. You can't lie to me. You want her gone, and you cannot face it. So I hid it from you, and so we were stronger together._

"What happened in Washington. Did we do that?"

 _Among other things. The pieces are still moving._

There was another rumble through the floor, and Jean strained against the ropes. Her other self looked at her with pity.

 _I told you. I am stronger than you. Join with me and we will end this._

The other self knelt before her. _She loves it when he touches her hair. You've seen it in her memory. Shall we take that away from her?_

"What?"

 _Watch._

The other self slashed a hand through the air.

* * *

The Phoenix slashed a hand through the air.

Demeter felt a peculiar change – her neck almost jerking, suddenly bearing less weight.

Her long braid slithered into her lap and coiled there. She felt strands of hair brush – barely – her collarbone, now loose.

Logan had never been particularly subtle about playing with her hair. She realized exactly what the Phoenix had done…and why she'd done it.

 _She wakes up knowing she's being watched._

 _She's warm – so warm, although her hip is a little stiff. Leah cracks her eyes open and sees Jean standing on the patio staring._

 _She keeps her eyes cracked and doesn't move much, trying to act as if she's still asleep. It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon, warm and sunny, a couple weeks before Scott and Jean's wedding. She's on the patio swing and lying on her side against Logan's chest, between his legs, and he's peacefully snoring above her where he's leaning against the arm of the swing. The book she'd been reading before falling asleep is on the ground, open, the pages ruffling in the light breeze. One of his arms is around her waist and the other hand is laced into her ponytail._

 _He feels her stirring and almost comes awake, but settles back down and starts snoring again, his arm squeezing her for a second. His hand strokes through her hair two or three times before joining the other arm around her waist._

 _Jean turns and walks off. Leah smiles and snuggles back down._

She snarled and pushed back deeper into the tree. "Now it's personal, bitch."

* * *

 _You see? So easy._

Jean fought against the vague satisfaction curling in her gut…but of course, her other self saw it.

 _Why keep fighting?_

The other self paused, looking into the distance, and smiled. _Watch this._

* * *

She was having to work a lot harder with the oak; either the tree was tired, or she was. Or both.

It didn't help that the Phoenix was on to her and dodging the branches now – there was a limit to how fast she could move the tree.

She could hear Wolverine snarling below her and then felt a thud, and looked down to see him pinned against the trunk of her tree. He'd tried to leap again and the Phoenix had caught him.

 _Oh now it's_ _really_ _personal._

She reached and grabbed two of the branches and brought them down on either side of the Phoenix, and snapped them together in a scissor, catching her between them for a few moments. Demeter sagged against the trunk of the tree, panting with the effort she was exerting…and the goddamn bitch was fighting her, burning, emitting enough heat to make Storm's ice sizzle on her skin and searing Demeter herself. She held on tight, snarling in pain, her power strong enough with the tree even to resist the Phoenix's pull, but…

 _Oh, shit._

Scott.

 _He's insane._

He was running across the lawn, and she couldn't hear what he was yelling, but…

 _Distraction._

He'd drawn her attention.

"Storm! Whatever you've got, do it now!"

Demeter reached deep and asked the oak for help one more time.

* * *

 _Ignore him. Help me._

But what the other self hadn't seen was that they had company.

Like looking through a dirty window, she could see him outside the room through the glass. _Charles._

Jean summoned all her strength and pushed against the ropes. She felt them give, ever so slightly – enough to allow a tiny bit of her own power to leak out. _Help me, Charles._

 _You have to let me in, Jean. Let me in._

She struck, forcing that tiny bit of power into one miniscule point in the glass. And it cracked.

The other self howled.

* * *

Lightning crackled.

Scott was yelling "No!" even as the bolt struck the Phoenix squarely in the back of her shoulders. At the same time, Demeter's entire tree bent, six or seven limbs reaching down, and walloped the Phoenix one after the other.

Wolverine saw the opportunity and leapt. He pulled his claws in – didn't need them.

With so much commanding her attention, she didn't even notice him until it was too late. And his metal-weighted fist crashed solidly into her temple.

She went down.

Stayed down.

The wind died. The ice turned into a gentle rain, and began to put out the small grass fires from both Phoenix and lightning.

Storm landed next to him, peering down at the figure prone on the grass. Scott was on his knees, cradling Jean's unconscious form. Leah was still up the tree, but looked like she was in the process of slowly breaking through the bark encasing her.

Scott looked up. "Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?"

"I think Charles better explain." Logan stepped over to the tree and looked up at Leah. "You all right?"

She'd gotten free of the bark, but was still leaning tiredly against the trunk of the oak. "Anyone want to help a girl down?"

Storm rose into the air and grabbed her hands, floating Leah gently to the earth. She fell into Logan's arms. "Fuck."

Charles, again: _Bring her inside. This will be easier with the equipment in the lab._

Scott lifted Jean into his arms and stood, her hair spilling over his arm. Logan looped his arm around Leah's back, intending to let her lean on him as they headed in, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Wait. I need to do something first."

She stepped back over to the tree and laid her hands on it. Logan surveyed the damage: limbs twisted out of shape, leaves and trunk discolored, and a big raw patch missing its bark around the branch where Leah had perched. Slowly, the tree healed, regaining its normal color and regrowing the bark that Leah had stripped off it.

She sank down onto the ground once she was done, catching her breath. Logan sat down next to her.

"You really had to do that now?"

She glared at him, as much as she could while feeling so drained. "Yes, I did. I owed it."

He snorted. "You owed a tree?" She glared at him again and he subsided. "Guess I shouldn't complain. Kept you safe."

"Yeah." She fell back onto her back, digging her hands into the soil and closing her eyes, heedless of the wet grass and fragments of bark.

"Leah?"

"I'm okay. Just…give me a sec."

She laid on the grass, silent and nearly motionless, for a good five minutes. More than once he sniffed and listened, checking to see if she'd fallen asleep, but no – her breathing was slowly calming down, her heart slowing. At last, Leah opened her eyes and offered him a small smile.

"Better."

He reached out and brushed her hair off her forehead. His fingers fumbled for a minute at the unaccustomed shortness, and he tried – unsuccessfully – to hide it. "Yeah?"

"Well…one more thing…"

She grinned mischievously at him and closed her eyes again. A few seconds later, he blinked as her hair began to regrow, creeping down over her shoulders and breasts, and stopping at her waist. Just where it had been.

When she was done, Leah opened her eyes, still grinning. "Did I get it right?"

He lifted a fistful and breathed the familiar scent, and smiled. "Perfect. And the next time you say anything about not being useful in a dangerous situation…I'm callin' bullshit."

She chuckled. "Bet that bitch didn't think I had _that_ in me." The smile faded as Leah looked down at herself, covered in dirt and bark and grass stains. "You think I can shower and change before anything else happens?"

As if on cue, Charles' voice sounded in their heads before he could answer. _Logan. Leah. Please come to the lab. Hurry._


	31. The Emotional Consequence of War (NOIA)

_He steps ever so carefully through Jean's mind._

 _She doesn't show any signs of regaining consciousness, and with Cerebro's help, he's keeping her brain waves firmly in delta – deep sleep. She shouldn't notice anything he does._

 _But he won't make the mistake of underestimating this creature._

 _He goes back in Jean's mind to last April, skipping past irrelevant memories and focusing on looking for Leah. Logan's increasing interest in the new professor, Leah's reciprocation…Jean had seen it before anyone had, including Logan and Leah themselves. And the seed of jealousy was planted, subconsciously…but planted._

 _Time passes in Jean's memory. They come back from Canada and their happiness is infectious, and her jealousy grows._

 _And then he finds it._

 _Paths cross in a hallway. An inadvertent glimpse of a tender, private moment. It's like a drug, and Jean is an addict._

 _Charles feels his face flame at some of the memories Jean sees over the next few weeks. He begins considering how to purge them from her mind and restore some semblance of privacy for Leah and Logan._

 _Speaking of…_

* * *

They entered the lab at a half-run, Leah still covered in dirt and bits of plant matter.

Hank, Charles, and Scott were clustered around the bed where Jean lay, still unconscious. Charles looked up as the door opened, his features partially obscured by the helmet he was wearing to link with Cerebro.

Leah looked from Jean to Charles, wincing as she remembered the bone-breaking blows she'd delivered with the help of the oak tree. "Is she…"

"The Phoenix protected her." Charles' eyes drifted closed again. "You did no lasting harm. None of you did."

Leah nodded, looking at Scott. "Scott…I wouldn't have, if there had been any other way…"

"I know." Scott's eyes were fixed on Jean. "Charles told me. Leah…I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"If I'd seen something…"

"Hey." She stepped forward and touched his shoulder. "Stop thinking like that. None of the rest of us did either."

"Think this makes us even, though," Logan rumbled.

Scott was startled into laughing. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it does."

"Charles…you told us to hurry. What is it?"

He opened his eyes and looked at Leah. "You may want to sit down."

Leah swallowed and stayed standing, conscious of Logan's warm bulk at her back, which at the moment felt more supportive than a chair. "Go ahead and tell me. Did she…" She swallowed again. "Did she take more? Am I missing more memories that I just don't know about?"

"No." Charles shook his head. "But…"

"Spit it out." Logan put a hand on Leah's back, the warmth bracing her. "Won't be any easier waiting."

"You have to understand that I can only do so much without fear of waking her. But I believe she has been…eavesdropping…for quite some time."

"Eavesdropping?"

"Watching your memories. Not stealing…but watching."

Leah digested for a second, slowly nodding. "You were right. I should probably sit down."

She folded into a chair and Logan's hand moved to her shoulder. Scott had gone white.

"All right." Leah took a breath. "So. Watching. Like I'm a damn TV?"

"That's an unfortunate analogy, but yes, I believe that is accurate. I would need to examine your mind further to be sure that that's all, but I do not believe she's actively tampered beyond what we already know."

"Okay, for fuck's sake, my head is not PBS!" Logan's hand tightened on her shoulder and she took another deep breath. "Sorry, Charles. I know you mean well."

"No apology needed."

She dropped her head onto the lab table next to her. "Will it help, if you look?"

"It will."

"Now?" Leah stood from the chair.

And it happened suddenly.

One second, the room was quiet. And the next, Leah screamed.

She grabbed her head and collapsed against the table. At the same time, Charles was clutching his temples and groaning in pain.

Logan was kneeling at Leah's side, hands fisted and claws out against a threat he couldn't identify. "Charles, what the hell?!"

 _Oh shit._

Jean's eyes were open. Burning.

She sat up, curiously cocking her head at the group surrounding her. Leah had stopped screaming, but was still huddled against the table, hands clutching her head, Logan hovering protectively over her.

The eyes narrowed.

Charles gritted his teeth and her attention instantly shifted.

" _I am not going back to sleep,"_ she informed him.

"She's shut me out," Charles muttered. "Jean…"

" _You will no longer receive help from her."_

"Jean, I know you're in there…" Her head whipped, to Scott now, who was approaching slowly from the left. "Jean…" His voice was low and soothing, as if he was speaking to a frightened animal. "Stop this. Let us help you."

" _Help?"_

"Yeah. I know this isn't you…let us help you."

" _Inaccurate."_ She regarded Scott. _"She loves you. So we will protect you."_

Scott dropped like a stone onto the floor, unconscious.

Her attention focused back on Leah, and Logan snarled. "Don't you dare put a finger on her."

" _Unnecessary."_ The eyes flared, and Leah screamed again. Logan lunged, aiming straight for her throat with his claws, and it was like a flashback to the world before, except he wasn't disintegrating and wasn't conflicted in the slightest, just wanting to stop whatever the bitch was doing to his partner, mate, _Leah_ , and if killing her was what it took, that was just fine…

She froze him.

He struggled against the telekinetic hold, but iron would have been easier to break.

"Charles, fucking do something!" Even speaking was a colossal effort.

"I'm trying…" The lights on his headset had brightened to a blinding intensity.

And then a roar. But not from Logan.

They'd all forgotten about Hank. Including Jean.

In full beast mode, he leapt onto her back and raked down with his claws. She collapsed under the assault, crying out in pain, and telekinetically throwing him backwards into the wall…

She was distracted. Charles pounced, throwing everything he had into a spear aimed directly at the center of that burning consciousness.

And he bounced off a shimmering wall of black glass.

She was fully shielded, and looked at him with something like pity as she rose.

"You can't fight all of us, Jean…"

" _I believe I am."_

Behind Logan – who was still frozen and snarling – Charles saw Leah stirring. She was bleeding from the nose and looked dazed, but met his eye. And he caught the whisper of a thought.

 _They're speed-walking towards the lab when Leah comes to a halt. "Wait. It'll only take a second…"_

 _She dashes up the stairs, returning less than five minutes later with her stripped-down gloves. Logan raises an eyebrow._

" _Hey, you never know…better to be prepared…"_

 _She stuffs the gloves in her back pocket, letting them dangle out._

And he saw her arms and hands – now sheathed in black leather – and understood.

The Phoenix – Jean – turned her attention back to Leah, still curled against the table. _"Where was I?"_

Leah flicked her left wrist and leapt to her feet, clenching her fist. Her head pounded and she stumbled and nearly fell as she threw the contents of the pod out.

" _A particularly nasty strain of the flu. With your abilities, it should be nearly instantaneous."_

 _GROW. GROW, GROW, GROW._

Hank had once asked her what she'd do if her life – or Logan's – were at stake. She guessed she could answer that question now.

She'd only tried to grow a virus in the lab before, and Hank had had to get extremely creative with the contents of the pod in order to provide a viable growth medium.

But it was working.

Jean was staggering, coughing, the effects of the virus indeed almost instant. She turned her head and vomited on the floor, and Leah laughed hysterically at the sight of the burning creature _throwing up._

She squared her shoulders, despite the appalling ache in her head, and glared at the creature. "I got more, bitch."

" _This isn't over."_

And she turned and walked out.

Leah fell to the ground, her reserves exhausted, and just lay there, trying not to move.

The telekinetic hold that was binding Logan and Hank lasted for a good five minutes – long enough to make chasing after Jean irrelevant. The minute they were free, Logan bent over Leah, and Hank checked Scott's pulse, looking up at Charles. "Scott will be fine. He is simply asleep."

"And Leah?"

Logan had his back turned to Charles from where he knelt on the floor and was gently stroking her cheek. "Hey. Hey, baby. Wake up. C'mon, darlin', wake up."

She stirred and murmured. "Hey. Ow."

Her eyes fluttered closed and he tapped her cheek. "Stay with me, baby…"

"Mm-hmm…hey, good thing we stopped and got my gloves, huh?..."

"Yeah." He smiled through his worry. "You were right…"

"Logan." Charles interjected. "Get her up here. I don't know what Jean was doing to her, and we need to find out."

He growled at the idea of putting Leah where Jean had been. Hank hastily grabbed a spare sheet and tossed it over the bed, and he gathered Leah into his arms, scooping her close against his chest and standing to lay her back down. She was almost unconscious, but whimpered as he set her down, grabbing for his hand. "Don't leave."

He settled into the chair that Hank kicked his way, lacing his fingers with Leah's. "Never, darlin'. I'm right here."

"Leah." Charles leaned over her. "I need to find out what she was doing. May I?"

"Uh-huh." Leah turned her face into the pillow. "Hurts…"

Charles gently laid a hand on her temple and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, his face was drawn into grim lines. "The good news is, she'll be all right."

"What's the bad news?"

"What Jean was doing…" Charles shook his head. "It's hard to explain. She was _dragging_ through Leah's memories…like she was trying to see all of them at once. Think of it as putting a video on fast forward and rewind at the same time."

"That's why it hurt her?"

"Precisely. A mind doesn't work like that. If you want to move quickly, you simply ignore what you don't want to see – not speed through everything." Charles touched her temple again and Leah instantly relaxed, her features smoothing into sleep. "She should sleep for some time. I think it's safe for you to get cleaned up, but you should be here when she wakes up. Logan…"

"What?"

"There's no permanent damage…and I don't believe that Jean took anything…but I don't think I need to tell you that that leaves quite a bit. She may be very confused when she wakes up. It's difficult to say. There are bound to be some residual effects…we'll just have to see."

* * *

She blinked.

 _Why am I in the lab?_

She was lying on her side _._ As her eyes fully opened, Logan leaned over her.

"Hey. Welcome back."

 _Right._ Now she remembered.

She stretched, experimentally. The pain in her head was gone. "Hey."

"You…" He gently touched her cheek. "You okay?"

She considered, taking inventory. "I…think so?"

Hank stepped into her field of vision. "Do you know where you are?"

"The lab."

"And can you tell me your name?"

"Leah Alexandra Hamilton. Birthday April 19th, 1989."

"Very good." Hank smiled. "And you know who this is?"

She looped her arm around Logan's neck, pulled herself up, and kissed him deeply. Hank sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'd say you do, and you're fine."

She lay back down just in time for Charles to enter the lab, smiling cautiously. "How are you feeling?"

"I think I'm okay."

"Good. May I take a look?"

She nodded, and he gently touched her temple. After a few seconds, his eyes opened.

"Leah…"

"I told you, I feel fine…"

"And for the most part, you are." Charles regarded her sternly. "However, you'll need to be careful. What the Phoenix did left…bruises. It may hurt, to remember certain things, until that bruising heals. I couldn't find a pattern, so it's entirely random what may trigger it. A sound, a smell…something from childhood…"

Leah grimaced. "Great. How long will it take?"

"The mind is unpredictable. A few weeks? A few months?"

She fell back on the pillow. "Great."

* * *

Logan insisted on carrying her upstairs, despite her protestations that she could walk just fine, and set her in the shower, stripping and joining her. By the time she was finally clean, she was grateful for his support; the day had taken more out of her than she'd realized, and she was half asleep again already as she flopped on the bed.

 _Bed._

 _After dinner they go upstairs together, early, not ready to emerge entirely from the two-person cocoon they've been in for over a week. She's feeling extremely conspicuous, and she wonders if he's reconsidering his proclamation from earlier that it doesn't matter who sees them._

 _She unlocks the door to her rooms and he follows her in, shutting and locking it behind him._

 _She turns to him. "Well…"_

 _And that's all she has time to say before he's kissing her and walking her towards the bedroom, and any trepidation she might have felt about being back at the school is gone as he starts taking her clothes off, and she's dimly wondering how thick the walls are, since it hasn't been relevant until now…_

 _And so, when he takes her for the first time on her own bed, she bites the pillow and moans her satisfaction into it. Just in case._

Pain.

She fisted a hand against her head and Logan looked at her. "Is it…"

"Yeah." Leah clenched her teeth. "Just…give me a minute…" Slowly the pain faded, and she blew out a breath. "Okay. Well, now I know."

"Bad?"

She shrugged. "Not awful. Not exactly fun, but…"

"Yeah."

He slid under the covers and wrapped his arms around her. Despite her brave face, he could feel her trembling, and he didn't need to ask to know why. He was, after all, something of an expert on having his mind fucked with.

He knew words wouldn't help, so instead, he held her until the shaking eased. And afterwards.

* * *

She was subdued the next morning and paler than usual, but seemed all right, all things considered.

He went to Charles' study after she left for her morning class, finding the other man staring out the window – one of the intact ones - deep in thought.

"I'm takin' her to Canada."

Charles turned his chair and regarded Logan, who was already making a beeline for the whiskey decanter. "Now?"

"Nah. She won't leave before exams are done next week. If I push it…think it'd make it worse. Make her feel worse."

"I see." Charles nodded slowly. "How long?" He pursed his lips in disapproval - it was barely nine in the morning, after all, although given yesterday, a little leeway was perhaps called for - as Logan knocked the whiskey back and refilled his glass.

"A week? Maybe longer? However long she needs. We were talking about it before this all happened, but now, we're going, no question."

"Good." Logan was surprised at the decisive tone. "Get her out of here. Let her recover."

He nodded. "That's the idea."

"Do you think she will?"

He was surprised again, this time by the question. "You don't know?"

"I know Leah is a strong woman, but what Jean did…it would sadden me, but not surprise me, if she couldn't face being here anymore."

He considered and then slowly shook his head. "Nah. Don't think so. She's rattled, yeah, but she ain't said anything about leaving."

"We'd lose you too if she left, I think?"

There was a long pause. "Yeah. Most like." He settled down in one of the chairs. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Charles smiled, driving away the grim lines on his face for a few moments. "You have no idea how much I hoped you'd eventually find what you now have. And I think you may leave from time to time, but you'll always come back."

He took a sip of the whiskey. "Jean's still out there. Batshit crazy, with the Phoenix in charge. What do we do?"

"I keep looking in Cerebro, trying to track her down. You help Leah heal. That's all we can do, for now."

"Scott?"

Charles sighed. "He doesn't blame you, if that's what you're wondering."

"Wasn't. But thanks. He blame Leah?"

"No." Charles shook his head. "I don't think Scott realized how…precarious…everything was. I think he expected Jean to perhaps be a little disappointed temporarily about the loss of your attention and that would be that. He had no idea she would go so far."

"And when we find her? Then what? She still have a place here?"

"Logan…"

He shrugged. "Leah can teach anywhere. Me too, now. Pretty sure neither of us will stay if Jean does."

Charles stared down at his desk for a very long time, and Logan felt vaguely guilty about the choice he was asking the other man to make…but on the other hand, Jean had made her choices too.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Charles said finally.

* * *

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Mr. Secretary."

"Of course." He gave the tall, elegant redhead a practiced smile. "Your note was intriguing. I must confess, I've been very curious about our "silent partner" these last months. It's a delight to finally meet you in person, Ms. Grey."

"Please. Call me Jean."


	32. DND (Semisonic)

**Author's Notes: Surprise, my lovelies! Two in one weekend! I** **desperately** **needed to write some pretty fluff after two long chapters of psycho lady (and more coming…trust me…ugh). And honestly, the cabin time in this new chapter is probably one of my favorite bits in this entire story so far. Despite the circumstances, it's so very** _ **them**_ **.**

 **(For anyone who's curious, my other favorites are the kitchen scene in chapter 5 (which was actually the very first one I wrote out of all of this), the mending-fences section in 18, and the not-a-date bit that I added in 3.)**

 **I know I say this a lot, but once again, THANK YOU to all my readers! I happily admit to total squealing after I posted chapters 28 and 29 and the reviews were like YEAH! KICK HER ASS LEAH! It made getting through writing 30 and 31 much easier knowing you were jonesing for it…you're all amazing! –PC**

* * *

Leah took it one day at a time.

It helped that it was a busy time of the year, and that there was light at the end of the tunnel. Logan had told her in no uncertain terms that they were leaving for Canada once finals were over, and she'd extracted a promise from him that they'd actually wait until the exams were done, no matter what. Given his protectiveness, she wasn't entirely certain that a bad day wouldn't drive him to toss her in the truck – literally - and just go.

And there were bad days.

Charles had been right: there was no pattern to it. Stepping into the garage and idly remembering driving the Lexus to pick her father up from the train station had brought on a blinding headache – but being in the lab with Hank and actively thinking about what they'd done last week on their new project didn't.

And sitting at the small table in the staff kitchen with a cup of tea reduced her to tears.

 _Leah is six._

 _Her father sits at the kitchen table with a cup of tea after everyone leaves. Even filled with people, the house had been quiet: her father's friends are reserved, emotionally awkward, knowing they should be there but not knowing what to say._

 _She peeks around the door frame. He looks so alone._

 _Her father looks over at her, and smiles tiredly. "It's okay. Come in."_

 _She pads in, carrying her book, noticing the framed photograph on the table and the newspaper open to the obituary from earlier in the week. He had read it to her, slowly and carefully, and explained the word "obituary"._

 _Laura Helena Hamilton._

 _He had explained the accident, slowly and carefully, in words a child could understand. That it's just them, now._

 _She is small for her age, and it takes work to climb into the chair, but she does it, and her father lets her do it without trying to help._

" _Do you want something to drink, honey?"_

 _She shakes her head and looks at the photograph. Her mother's eyes were blue, like her father's._

Ororo found her slumped on the table crying from more than just the headache. Silently, she pulled up a chair as Leah raised her head.

"Sorry." She wiped her eyes and Ororo proffered a handkerchief. "Thanks."

"Of course." She stood, returning with a glass of water that Leah sipped gratefully. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Leah sighed. "I was remembering the day after my mom's funeral. It was kind of like this…my dad, sitting at the table with tea, alone. That was what set it off."

"How old were you?"

"Six. It was a car accident. Two drunk idiots ran a red light drag-racing."

"I am sorry."

Leah sipped, first water, then tea. "Thank you. It was so long ago…I don't think of it much anymore…but just then, and then the headache…I feel like I start crying at the drop of a hat right now." She rubbed her temples. "It's been a rough week."

"To say the least." Ororo leaned forward. "Remember…you do not have to be better all at once. This will take time. Not just what Charles said, but…the feeling of helplessness. I grew up on the streets. When someone is stronger than you, and uses that strength against you…it will take time. Don't be afraid of that."

"Yeah…I know." She paused. "I just wish…there was a way to sort of know when, right? Some pattern? So I could at least be prepared for it."

"Are you still leaving tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I've got the basic biology final in the morning and then we're out of here. I can't wait. You'll look after all the plants for me?"

"Of course. Everything will be fine. Don't worry about anything while you're away."

* * *

They left for Canada almost the second her last exam was over.

Leah took about five minutes to clean up and make sure all of the finals were loaded onto her computer. He was waiting for her at the door of her classroom, having finished with his students the day before, and practically dragged her to the truck out front, already loaded and ready to go. The second they were both in and buckled up, Logan peeled out of the driveway without a backward glance.

She didn't say much on the drive, lying back and listening to the radio, letting the miles roll by. He reached over and touched her leg from time to time, knowing that the contact helped, and knowing that she needed this desperately – just the two of them, somewhere that was all theirs. They'd originally planned for a week, but the entire break was sounding better and better.

Three weeks – he hoped that was enough time.

He pulled in and saw Leah smile, faintly, for the first time since they'd left the mansion.

"Hey." He reached over, rubbed her leg. "It's okay. You can let go now."

The tears he'd smelled during the drive finally spilled over, and Leah fell into his arms and started sobbing. He pulled her in, as much as he could in the truck cab, and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her head against his chest and letting her cry, lacing his fingers through her hair over and over and murmuring softly – nonsense words and sounds, just making noise so that she could hear his voice.

After about ten minutes, the sobs eased, and Leah sat up, looking ruefully at the wet patch on his shirt. He brushed his thumb over her cheek, wiping away one last tear. "You cry as much as you need to, okay? Shirts dry, and I got plenty of 'em."

Leah let out a choked sound that was half sob, half laugh, and finally smiled at him. "Okay. Let's unpack."

* * *

They fell easily into the routine they'd formed when arriving at the cabin: unpacking, tidying up and dusting, making the bed, setting up fresh candles. It was warm enough to not need the fireplaces, and Logan opened a few of the windows, letting the fresh air in.

Leah had made coffee and poured them each a cup, and they settled down on the couch together after the chores were done. He'd made a few minor additions to the cabin since Leah had come into his life: the washer she'd mentioned, small and solar-powered, but enough to do a little bit at a time; a few solar batteries that could charge a laptop or a phone, for when they came up but still needed to do a little work.

"What are you thinking?" She was resting between his legs, leaning against his chest.

"I'm thinking, fuck just a week. We should stay as long as you need to." He kissed the top of her head. "We can go into town if we need to get groceries. Stay the whole three weeks of break, if we want."

"That sounds…amazing." She sat up, sipping the coffee. "I want…I want time. And I want lots of new memories that I don't have to wonder if someone else has seen."

He laughed bitterly. "Darlin', you don't even have to ask. I'm all for it."

"Good." She set her mug down and curled back up, feeling his hand stroking through her hair, loose down her back.

"Does it feel the same?"

He smiled and sipped the coffee. "Mostly. Feels a little different, the part that's newer. Softer. But it smells the same."

"Logan…I never asked. I know it was…complicated…you and Jean. Are _you_ okay?"

He thought about it, drinking from the mug and stroking her hair as he thought. "Yeah," he said finally. "Yeah, I am. Minute she hurt you…it was like it flipped a switch. Don't know how anyone could say they gave a shit about me and then do anything to you."

She stroked her hand over his chest, the softness of his shirt, feeling and hearing the strong heartbeat beneath the hard planes of muscle. Words didn't really seem necessary, and she didn't even try.

After awhile, she leaned up and kissed him. He responded unhurriedly, gently returning the kiss and wrapping his arms around her, and they stayed that way for quite some time.

He'd been careful with her for the last week, never knowing what would set off the psychic damage the Phoenix had left behind, and Leah's mental state overall hadn't been the best…and so intimacy had been present, but almost tentative.

She wasn't being tentative now, and he could feel her arching against him as he slowly deepened their kiss and she responded, her hands gently touching his cheeks.

When he backed off, she was smiling, and it was more real than he'd seen in days.

"Take me to bed."

* * *

He carried her up, Leah clinging to him with legs and arms wrapped around him, kissing her while managing to navigate the stairs. At the top, he laid her on the bed, pulling the blankets back and putting her down on the crisp, clean sheets.

She was still smiling as he pulled her clothes off, piece by piece, lingering over her body with hands and mouth. When she tried to reciprocate, he pushed her hands away; this felt like hitting the reset button and starting the process of healing, and he wanted her to just relax, and take, and let him give.

She cried out as his tongue circled between her legs, working in tandem with his fingers. "Logan, please…"

He didn't answer, but continued what he was doing, and she applauded his good sense, because she might have killed him if he'd stopped. And then she was there…coming against his mouth, her body writhing and he used one arm across her hips to hold her in place while he kept going, pushing her back up towards climax once more.

She whimpered at the continued attention, everything exquisitely sensitive and even his light touch almost too much; she dug her hands into his hair, cursing as she got close again, and he lifted up from between her thighs and slid his body over hers, holding her gaze as he entered. Leah caught her breath, trembling, crushing her mouth against his and wrapping her legs around him...

"Tell me how you want me," he murmured against her lips.

He was moving with firm, slow strokes, and she could barely think. "I…I…"

"Slower?" He slowed down to mirror his words. "Deeper?" He pressed up, pulling her hips along with him into a different angle, and – oh, yeah, that was deeper, all right. "Tell me, Leah…tell me what you want…"

"Faster," she breathed. "I want faster…please, please, please…"

He smiled, and sped up his pace – but not too much, and, as always, his instincts for pleasing her didn't lead him astray, and she was shattering under him in no time, whimpering in his ear as he groaned his own release against her neck.

She snuggled up against him as he rolled off her and gathered her in an arm, and sighed contentedly. "I needed that."

He kissed her hair. "I know."

* * *

Summer at the cabin was gorgeous. Logan had hauled the motorcycle along in the bed of the truck, and they went for several long rides, packing picnic lunches and books and finding one of the many lakes in the area to park by and relax for long, lazy afternoons.

They drove into town one day towards the end of the first week, returning with more groceries and a load of flat stones, and spent the rest of that day and the next digging and installing a fire pit. When they finished, Leah roasted marshmallows, made s'mores, and laughed at Logan as he kissed the stickiness off her fingers and complained about getting marshmallow in his sideburns.

The days slipped by quietly. She sat on the patio and graded finals over morning coffee while wearing one of Logan's shirts. She exercised, doing push-ups on the floor and pull-ups from tree branches. She drank her favorite white wine, soaked in the pool, and tended to the new pines she'd started in the fall on their first trip. She'd brought yarn and her needles, and knitted a new pair of thick socks to leave with her things permanently at the cabin.

Logan spent time working on the cabin itself, catching up on routine maintenance and the small repairs that came from it being empty for months. He graded his own finals, keeping Leah company in the morning and enjoying the sight of her wearing his clothes. He refilled the shed, starting more wood seasoning for future winters. He smoked and sipped scotch on the patio in the evenings before bed, and often, she'd join him, silently holding his hand and looking up at the stars and the sweep of the Milky Way across the sky, so brilliant this far from any city.

And gradually, as the days passed, he saw her close her eyes and touch her temples in pain less often.

They lingered in bed in the mornings, enjoying the opportunity to spend hours pleasing each other with no other demands on their time. They ate dinner on the living room floor - a favorite tradition, in front of fires when the evenings were cool enough…and normally, evenings ended with slow, tender lovemaking.

She basked in the quiet, and the natural beauty surrounding them, and the love of her partner.

And Leah healed.

It wasn't easy, and she'd cried on him more than once from pain and frustration and feelings of helplessness, but she healed.

And after about two weeks, one morning after they'd made love and were lying in comfortable afterglow, she spooned up against him and felt his arms go around her and murmured, "I think I'm ready to go back soon."

He gently stroked her arm. "No hurry. 'Less you're sick of me."

"Hardly." She teasingly arched against him, pushing her backside into his hips, and he groaned, arms tightening and hands starting to roam. "I just…I think I'm better enough to go back. We should stay at least a couple more days, though."

"At least." His hand trailed down her stomach and she opened her legs for him, wrapping one back over his to get it out of the way, and his fingers unerringly went to just the right spot, and she felt her body responding even though they'd just finished. "Think you've got enough new memories?"

"A few more never hurt…"

She could feel how ready he was – _again_ \- and tilted her hips back in invitation, and he pushed back into her from behind, slowly, kissing along her neck. She knew from experience that twice-in-a-row always meant slow and steady the second time, and adjusted her position, bending her legs for a better fit. He sighed with contentment, his finger tracing her clit lightly.

"This good?"

"Mmhmm." She rocked her hips back into him, meeting his slow thrusts. "Just right…"

* * *

They wound up staying three more days, starting to head back early on a Wednesday morning to have time to prepare for the new term. Leah opened her laptop and curled up in the passenger seat – she'd learned a long time ago that driving was not a fight she was going to win, although she'd emerged victorious in the battle over who got to choose the radio station – and busily worked on her new syllabi, occasionally singing along to the music.

Logan grumbled about her choice, but privately, would have put up with far worse than eighties music to see the smile on Leah's face.

They'd crossed the border and stopped for gas when she finally dug her phone out of her backpack and checked for service, and almost dropped it.

"Logan!"

He was coming back from inside, tossing her a bottle of water. "What?"

She caught the water and held up her phone. "I've got twenty-eight missed calls from Charles."

"Shit."


	33. Chapter 33

She jumped back into the passenger seat as Logan swung behind the wheel, and started dialing Charles.

He answered on the first ring. "Finally. Don't you check your messages?"

"You know we don't when we're up north. Charles, what's going on?"

"Jean – whatever she is now – is in Washington. We located her last week, just after you checked in."

"Great. So, when are we going to Washington?"

"You aren't. Several of the others are there now to retrieve her."

"WHAT?!"

Logan snarled, having overheard. "Put him on speaker."

She punched keys and almost threw the phone on the seat between them. "Charles, you're on speaker, we can both hear you. Say that again."

"A team went to retrieve Jean yesterday. With any luck, they are returning today. They have Hank's serum with them."

Leah looked confused and Logan shook his head; he'd fill her in later. "So what? They're just gonna bring her back and everything's A-OK?"

"No." The pause at the end of the single word was heavy. "We'll evaluate her when they return and decide what to do then. Hank's serum will remove the threat of her powers until I can assess what may be needed to eliminate this alternate personality."

"And what if you can't?"

Charles was silent.

"Okay, well, we're still about four hours out, Charles." Leah picked up the phone again and turned off the speaker. "We'll get there as fast as we can…"

* * *

They found Charles in his study as usual, the mansion eerily quiet with the students still off for the summer break. He looked up and smiled to see them.

"Welcome back."

Leah bent over and hugged him, conscious of the difficult choices he was having to make. "Thanks, Charles."

He put a hand up towards her temple. "May I?"

She nodded, and his fingers touched gently, withdrawing a second later. "You must look into patenting whatever you did for the last two weeks. I can barely detect any trace of the damage."

Leah smiled at Logan, who was settling down on Charles' couch, leaving space for her at his side. "I'm not sure it'd work for anyone but me. Just a lot of nature and a lot of love. And hopefully, that won't happen to anyone else anytime soon…"

Charles nodded soberly as Leah sat.

"Who's all gone?"

"Most of the team. Ororo didn't want to take any chances."

"So Storm's leading?" Logan thought for a moment, then nodded. "Good plan. Scott stayed here?"

"Yes. It was difficult to convince him. Hank may have assisted slightly."

"In the form of narcotics?" Leah grinned.

"Perhaps."

"When are they due back?"

Charles checked his watch. "If all goes well, they should be checking in within the next hour or so, and then hopefully on their way home."

"How'd you finally track her down?"

"it was difficult." He sighed. "We got very lucky. She'd been using her powers to shield against Cerebro, but must have been distracted enough to let something slip. It was a case of right place, and right time - the slip was very brief. Another few seconds, looking farther away, and I might have missed it."

"I wish you'd waited for us..."

"Answer your phone next time."

Logan let out a snort. "Can we take about twenty years or so before next time?"

* * *

After doing a circuit through the greenhouses, and unpacking, she stood at the window in their rooms surveying the green expanse of lawn below her. The corner suite – spacious and open, perfect for them sharing – had windows on two sides, and she luxuriated in the sunlight, resting her forehead against the glass for a moment and closing her eyes.

Warm hands touched her back, fingers digging into the muscles around the base of her spine through her shirt. Something popped under the touch, and she groaned in bliss. "I love you so much right now."

Logan chuckled and kept working, his hands spreading over the full width of her lower back. Her eyes drifted open and she arched her spine as his thumbs dug up along either side, drawing out more pops. For a few minutes, she closed her eyes again and just leaned against the window, letting him work, smoothing out the knots from the long drive.

Her eyes drifted back open as his hands grew gentler, and she looked out at the school grounds, seeing the greenhouses off to the side – _her_ greenhouses, the feeling of possession having taken hold about five minutes after she'd first arrived. The kitchen garden, almost doubled in size from last year, everything in full leaf and looking perfect. The grass and trees that she knew by heart.

"It's so beautiful," she murmured.

The hands stopped massaging and wrapped around her waist, drawing her against him, and she felt the length of his body against her back.

The elephant in the room was making its hulking presence known. Leah leaned her head back against his shoulder, and Logan shifted, leaning against her too, his cheek pressing against the side of her forehead.

"Are we going to have to kill her?" Leah's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

"I dunno. Hope not. But it depends on what Charles can do. What she's become."

"Yeah." Leah closed her eyes again. "Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't…I don't know if I can stay here, if she's still here. I don't know…I'll believe Charles if he says he's helped her, but…remembering what she did…" She laced her fingers with his, where his hands rested on her stomach. "And at the same time, the thought of leaving and losing you is just as bad. Worse."

She was in the same territory he'd already talked about with Charles, and his answer was the same as it had been then. "Not something you've gotta worry about, Leah." He tightened his arms briefly. "Not a choice you've got to make."

"What are you saying?"

"Saying if you leave, then I do, too. If that's good with you."

"Logan, I can't…I can't ask that of you. This is home for you. It's different for me, I haven't been here long…"

"You aren't asking. I'm telling you. Already made up my mind." Part of him was grateful he was holding her from behind; it was a lot easier to bare his soul when he didn't have to look her in the eyes. "I don't want to do this – any of this - without you. Not anymore. If that means we teach at some other school, or go to Canada and you spend the next year writing a book, whatever. Fine by me."

Leah swallowed hard. "I really don't want to go anywhere. I love it here."

"I know. Me too. Hope it doesn't come to that. But you don't have to pick between here and us."

She was quiet for a moment. "It hasn't even been a year. How can you be so sure?"

He smiled. "Kinda knew the minute I smelled you up close that it should be you and me, darlin'. Just had to figure out all the other shit after that."

She laughed. "I can't argue with your nose. I guess I should be grateful for sweat, huh?"

She turned in his arms and was leaning up for a kiss when the alarms started sounding, and Logan's head whipped towards the window, his ears picking up the whine of an engine a split-second before.

"That's the jet. Get your gloves and let's go."

* * *

The screeching hellcat that Hank dragged off the plane bore very little resemblance to Jean.

Charles took one look and rapped out crisp instructions to Leah. "Keep Scott away for now. Do whatever you have to. He can't see this."

Leah had gone pale at the sight. "Going."

She squeezed Logan's hand and headed back for the elevator at a half-run. He turned, intending to follow her, but was stopped by Charles' voice. "No – let her take care of this. We may need you here."

Hank tried to lighten the mood. "Could Leah have perhaps fixed my face before she left?"

They'd zip-tied Jean's wrists behind her back. Without her powers, Hank was easily able to keep her in check, although his face was sporting a set of slashes down his cheek – nail marks. Her hair was tangled and knotted, presumably from whatever struggle she'd put up, and her eyes…

 _Christ, what a fucking nightmare._

Her eyes were black. Just like before, locked in his memory. Veins standing out in her face, skin almost luminescent, especially around the eyes.

Those eyes locked onto Logan and she shrieked again, lunging for him. His claws shot out even as Hank yanked her backward with his hand clamped on her shoulder, and Piotr stepped to her other side.

" _Where's the whore?"_

He snarled, correctly assuming she was referring to Leah, and raised his claws. "Shut the hell up."

"Logan." Charles turned to Hank. "How long do we have?"

Hank checked his watch. "The serum will wear off in another couple of hours. We'll need to get a dosage schedule set up. Maybe a sedative?"

"Agreed. Go to the lab, do what you need to do. Make her as comfortable as you can; I'll join you in a moment. Logan, stay here."

Charles lowered his voice as everyone dispersed, the quiet punctuated by snarls from Jean.

"Logan, I…" He paused, and Logan could see the struggle on his face. "If I can't eliminate the alternate personality…release this festering jealousy and rage…I may need to ask for your help."

"You want me to be ready to kill her."

"If I'm not confident that she is no longer a threat…then yes. I do."

He nodded, slowly. "Okay. I can do that."

"Can you?" Charles looked into his face and saw nothing but calm resolve. "I see that you can. Forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive. Don't blame you for asking." He smiled ruefully. "Did it once, feeling a hell of a lot different. If I have to do it again…well. Easier, this time."

* * *

"Scott, I really don't want to do this. Sit down – please. I'll stay with you."

Leah was standing in front of the library door, facing off with Scott, who was supporting himself on the couch that he'd been snoring on until about five minutes ago, and who looked like he was still losing the battle against Hank's sleeping medicine.

"Leah, please. Think about if it was Logan…"

"I am. And if he was like that – if he barely knew me - I'd be extremely grateful to whoever kept me from seeing him that way." She straightened her wrists, feeling the leather of her gloves creak.

"I'd rather know…"

"No. You really wouldn't."

She flicked her wrists, and an instant later, Scott was curled on the rug, coughing and sneezing. Leah shook her head and shut the door behind her, locking it from the outside.

 _Thank goodness the term hasn't started yet and it's just us here…_

* * *

She went pale again at what was waiting in the lab.

It was a spooky flashback to three weeks ago – Jean on the table, Charles at her head, Hank next to Charles and Logan to the side near the wall. Logan's claws were out, his entire body tense, ready to spring into action at a second's notice. An IV was running into Jean's arm; a continual dose, she assumed, of the serum that suppressed the effects of her mutation. Her wrists and ankles were secured to the table by thick leather straps.

The black eyes were open, and flicked to Leah the minute she stepped into the room. _"Whore. Animal lover. Spreading your legs for that beast."_

Logan bristled; Leah shrugged. "Sure, but since you want what I've got, what does that make you?"

Jean's only answer was a snarl, and Leah stepped to Logan's side, holding her wrists tight. Charles took a deep breath.

"Where's Scott?"

"Locked in the library, recovering from an allergy attack." She shrugged again at the inquisitive looks from all three of the men. "You told me to keep him away…"

"All right." Charles looked to his side. "Hank. Do it."

Hank twisted a dial on the control panel. A few moments later, Jean's eyes drifted shut – he'd increased the dose of the sedative.

"Good. Now, listen, all of you." He met each of their eyes in turn. "I don't know what I'm going to find in there. It may be that Jean's real self is still inside somewhere. If I can, I'm going to free it and hopefully ally against this personality and eliminate it for good. If I can't…" His eyes paused on Logan's. "She cannot be allowed to leave again. It was difficult enough to track her down this time; she knows too much about how we can search for her. We were lucky, and I don't want to have to count on luck again. If I appear to be in distress, or if I do anything that goes against that express statement…you know what to do."

Leah almost gave herself whiplash looking at Logan, who simply nodded. "Yeah."

"Very well." Charles lifted his hands and placed them on Jean's temples. He closed his eyes.

About five seconds later, Storm appeared in the doorway, out of breath from running. "There's a helicopter landing on the front lawn."

Leah's eyes opened wide and she stared at Logan. "Jean was in Washington…"

"Fuck."


	34. Chapter 34

Leah nodded decisively. "I'll go. You and Hank stay here."

"Leah – "

She clapped a hand over his mouth. "Logan. Charles knew you could do what had to be done if it…if it comes to that. You have to stay here, and so does Hank. Storm and I will go."

He growled, realizing she was right, and grabbed her shoulders, planting a hard kiss on her mouth. "Be careful."

She smiled, and then took off running, Storm at her heels.

* * *

The elevator to the lower levels was half-hidden by the graceful sweep of a staircase. The women exited and then paused, listening for trouble.

"Where's everyone else?"

Storm turned her head slightly at Leah's whisper. "Piotr was heading upstairs. Kitty is likely there as well. Bobby and Marie…I do not know. They will all have heard the helicopter."

"I locked Scott in the library. Should we head that way?"

"Yes."

* * *

 _He steps carefully – no wheelchair needed in the mind - through the corridors of black glass that are Jean's consciousness. He never knows what he'll find when he enters someone's mind; sometimes there is a jumble of images, free-form and flowing with instantaneous associations. Other times the mind is more orderly, and thought progresses in more of a straight line._

 _This is a maze._

 _He walks slowly, seeing his reflection in the black._

 _Occasionally, he sees memories appear in the glass, as if in a mirror. He watches, hoping there will be a clue as to what the Phoenix has done with Jean – if there even is a Jean anymore – but so far, nothing._

 _He's not sure how long he wanders before he finds her. It's only a glimpse in one of the corridors, and he whirls, fixating on the memory she was watching before she vanished. He sees Leah: workout clothes, brow furrowed and teeth gritted, a loaded barbell on her back as she squats the weight. Logan is standing behind her, spotting her, and helps her rack the bar as she comes back up from her final rep. He lightly rubs his hand over her backside and she laughs, wiping sweat from her face._

 _Why would Jean…?_

 _He considers. He has a hunch._

 _He devotes his mind to actively pursuing certain memories, pushing and focusing on feelings to guide him. And he finds Jean again, and again – brief glimpses only, but it's enough to confirm what she's watching: memories of tenderness. Affection. Love. A dozen, a hundred, a thousand small moments building over time._

 _A quick kiss and a caress of Logan's hand over Leah's cheek, in an empty classroom._

 _Laughter, and Leah kneeling by her tomato plants, and a broken bottle of balsamic vinegar on the floor of the greenhouse, Logan standing next to her and the two of them covered with the vinegar._

 _Silence, at night, sitting under a tree, Logan's head on Leah's thigh and smoke drifting around them from his cigar._

 _Morning, and sunlight, and a memory hazy around the edges – Leah half-waking, snuggled tight in Logan's arms, and then smiling and falling back asleep._

 _Kisses, and caresses, and more; Logan shirtless and Leah rapidly getting there as he pulls her sweater off over her head, on a couch in front of a fire, what Charles recognizes as the cabin up north before he averts his eyes._

 _This is what the Phoenix had been looking for on that day. Not to steal, but to see, and remember._

 _And use._

* * *

They reached the main library just as a loud knocking from the front door echoed through the quiet hallways. Leah eased the key in the lock and swung the door open, pulled the key free, and she and Ororo slipped into the room and shut the door behind them.

Scott was peering out the window watching the helicopter, and turned, startled, as they entered, relaxing quickly. "What's going on?"

"We don't know yet." The women joined him, seeing three figures clustered around the helicopter. The blades had spun down and the figures were motionless.

The three of them jumped as Piotr and Kitty walked through the library wall.

"What's going on?"

"We don't…"

The knocking echoed again.

Ororo turned to Kitty. "Can you get closer? Watch them as they come in?"

Kitty nodded, turning and leaving again through the same wall she'd come through.

"Where's everyone else?"

"Still downstairs." Leah felt the urge to whisper as she replied to Scott; it was an effort to maintain a normal tone. "Charles had just started to work with Jean. We couldn't interrupt them."

* * *

 _The path he is on opens up to a circular room._

 _It's another memory that is playing, although this time, it's three-dimensional. The room is cut roughly in two: his half is still the black glass that has surrounded him, and the other…_

 _He recognizes the ballroom. The lights, garland…this is the Christmas party, and he knows it's the one just past because the center of the memory, the figures, are kissing under a sprig of mistletoe, and it's Logan, of course, with Leah wrapped in his arms. He remembers seeing them doing this at the party and looking away with a smile, scarcely able to fit the romantic image with the man he has known for so long._

 _The figures move apart an inch and are smiling at each other, and exchanging words, too soft to hear. And then they get louder._

" _Wait. I need to say something." Leah is speaking, and she pauses. "I'm falling in love with you. I'm absolutely sure. And I…I just need to know if that's okay."_

 _Charles hears a choked sob, and turns._

 _Jean is standing behind him._

 _He recognizes it, instantly, as the real Jean. She is watching the memory, watching as Logan kisses Leah again and doesn't look like he's going to be stopping anytime soon._

" _Jean?"_

 _She doesn't notice him, doesn't look his way. But she also doesn't vanish._

 _A new memory starts._

* * *

Leah carefully eased the library door open so that they could listen, kneeling on the carpet and putting her ear up to the thin sliver of space.

She heard footsteps.

Soft murmurs.

She looked at the rest of the group. "Someone's coming."

Everyone quieted instantly. Leah strained to listen, wishing mightily for her partner's keen senses, but they'd just have to make do. She held her breath, cutting out even more sound.

"…intelligence said that the adults should still be around."

"Doesn't seem like there's anyone here."

"The asset is somewhere in the building, but the tracker signal is confused. We'll have to sweep by floor."

"Huge place like this? Could take hours."

"Call in some of the team from outside."

The footsteps retreated.

Leah eased the door closed, muffling the click of the latch with her hands, and turned to the rest of the group. She kept her voice low.

"I think they're looking for Jean. They said something about the asset being in the building, and a tracker signal."

Scott flattened his back against the wall next to the window and peered out. "Two more of them are coming in."

"How many people can one helicopter fit?"

Scott paused, thinking. "Maybe six, plus the pilot?"

"And one left outside? So we have a maximum of six in here to deal with." Ororo paused, thinking. "I suggest we split up. They will have to also. Leah and I will take this floor and keep them from locating the elevator. Scott, you and Piotr take the third floor. When Kitty returns, she must go to the lab and warn the others of this tracking device."

Ororo had barely finished speaking when Kitty popped through the wall and confirmed their assumptions. "They're splitting up. Three teams of two."

Scott nodded. "We'll follow Storm's plan. Kitty, can you get to the basement? Warn Logan and Hank that they may be able to track…track Jean?" Everyone pretended to ignore the hitch in his voice, and Kitty nodded. "Then try and find Bobby and Marie. Hopefully they're staying hidden. If you find them, head up to the second floor."

* * *

 _Logan builds a fire in a fireplace while Leah curls up on a couch, pulling out her knitting – she's working on a pair of thick socks in a light green yarn, similar to the ones on her feet. Charles doesn't recognize this scene, but he knows the setting: this is one of the small alcove reading rooms on the main floor._

 _As Logan stands from the fireplace, Ororo sticks her head around the door. "Goodnight."_

" _Night." Leah waves a hand. "See you in the morning."_

 _Charles sees the pile of items on the coffee table: books, laptops, beer bottles and a wine glass, and two mugs of coffee, and figures out what he's watching. Logan and Leah are on one of their night duty shifts, shared among the staff, staying up in case there are emergencies or if any of the younger students simply need an adult. Judging by the fire and by their attire – Logan's flannel shirt and Leah's thick tunic sweater – it's still chilly in the evenings at the time of this memory, maybe late March._

 _Ororo leaves and Logan kneels by the couch, running his hand down Leah's upper arm, nuzzling her neck. "Doctor Hamilton…have to say, you're looking damn fuckable tonight…"_

 _She smiles. "Mmm. Well, thank you, Professor Logan, but I'm afraid I'm already taken…" His face is still buried in her neck and Leah's eyes close at the attention._

" _Yeah?"_

" _Mmhmm. And he's very possessive…and big."_

" _Sounds like an asshole."_

" _Sometimes…but he's really kind of a softie."_

 _Logan chuckles as they tease each other, and turns her head towards him, and kisses her lips. Her hand goes to his face and his slides down from her arm, lightly cupping her breast through her sweater._

 _She pulls back slightly at the touch and smiles against his mouth. "Remember…we have to behave…"_

" _Misbehaving's still behaving."_

" _Behaving, as in, students might walk in anytime behaving…"_

" _We're teachers. They've gotta learn sometime."_

 _She laughs as he kisses her again, his hand on her cheek sliding into her hair, and relaxes against him, the room going quiet for some time._

 _They come up for air briefly and he sniffs, and smiles. "You smell like you want me, Doctor Hamilton…"_

" _And what if I do?"_

" _What would your big, possessive boyfriend say, huh?"_

 _She kisses him again and his hand slides on her breast, kneading gently, thumb caressing through her sweater. "You tell me." A few seconds go by while their mouths are otherwise occupied, before he answers her with a growly murmur._

" _He'd say, if we don't stop for a while, I'm going to wind up fucking you on this couch, and that's probably a little too much educating for the kids…"_

" _Mmhmm."_

 _More kisses; Charles must really remember to scold them, they're supposed to be at least nominally on duty, but he's also smiling foolishly about how enamored they are with each other._

 _Logan's hand slides to her lap, resting on her upper thigh and thumb stroking along the inner edge, but he pulls back in the same moment. "Okay. We've really gotta stop."_

 _Leah laughs, and they back off. He sits on the other end of the couch and arranges her feet on his lap, lightly resting one hand on her leg while the other holds his coffee mug._

 _Charles watches as they lounge together, Leah knitting and Logan reading. Their first and only call of the night comes around three a.m., in the form of seven-year-old Tina and a simple nightmare. Leah does this one, escorting the girl back to bed and leaving Logan to deal with anything that comes up at the same time. The memory shifts, Logan fading out of the scene._

 _Tina is a wide-eyed girl, in more ways than one: her mutation allows her to see into the infrared and ultraviolet spectra. Her irises are a mass of color. Yet, for all that, she is still a little girl, and clutches a ragged teddy bear as Leah tucks her back in._

" _Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?"_

" _Yes please."_

 _Leah settles in more comfortably on Tina's bed, leaning her side against the headboard. "Should I read to you? Would it help you get back to sleep?"_

" _No thank you." Tina looks up at her. "Doctor Hamilton?"_

" _Yes?"_

" _Are you going to marry Professor Logan?"_

 _Leah is startled by the question, barking out a surprised laugh, and Charles sees her cheeks redden. "It's maybe still a little soon to be thinking about that…" She chuckles and raises her eyebrows at the girl, looking very serious, as if they are about to share a secret. "Do you think I should?"_

 _Tina nods decisively. "Yes. He was very alone before. And now he isn't. So I think you should marry him."_

 _She smiles. "Well, I'll definitely keep that in mind if he asks." She taps Tina lightly on the nose, and the girl grins. "I think you're a very smart girl."_

 _Tina snuggles down with her teddy bear, and falls asleep soon after._

 _Leah gets up carefully from the bed and pads back down the hall to the reading alcove, the memory shifting again to show Logan still on the couch, right where he had been. Leah slides onto his lap and he smiles, putting his book and beer aside._

 _She loops her arms around his neck and kisses him. "I love you."_

" _Love you too." His eyebrow lifts. "What was that for?"_

" _Oh…no reason."_

* * *

They jumped as Kitty came through the wall, and Logan's fists tightened. "Shit, kid, could you shout next time?"

She rolled her eyes. "I came down to warn you. There are six in the school, searching. We think they're looking for Jean and that they may have a way to track her."

Hank and Logan exchanged a look, and Hank crossed to one of the worktables, rummaging in a drawer of equipment. "The walls should prevent any signal from escaping. But best to look and see."

Logan turned back to Kitty. "Everyone all right so far?"

"Yeah. We're splitting up, tracking them down. I've got to go, I need to find Bobby and Marie." She went back through the wall.

* * *

 _This time, once the memory is over, Jean fades away. And Charles realizes what's happening. Where this whole mess is coming from._

 _What Jean wanted was what Leah got._ Exactly _what Leah got._

 _She had never made a choice because Scott had always been the better bet. Logan had attracted her as the rough man, the dangerous one, good for a little fantasizing and some flattering attention and not much else. But once he was attached to Leah…the angry loner, the bad boy, had become a loving and affectionate partner, a side of him that Jean had never thought existed. Never been able to see, past the drinking and smoking and hard edges._

 _And the Phoenix is torturing her by making her watch it. Making her wonder if she could have had the same if she'd given him a chance instead of playing it safe._

 _And now she'll never know._

 _But this means…_

 _This means that the real Jean is still in here somewhere. And if the Phoenix is bothering to torture her, to keep her attention occupied…it means that she's still strong enough to represent a threat._

 _Charles turns and strides off with fresh purpose._


	35. Chapter 35

**Author's Note: Hello lovelies! Thank you for all the delightful reviews - I truly love seeing your comments, and yes, Jean is absolutely a psycho, and trust me, I'm not letting her get away with it, as you'll see!**

 **And also - THANK YOU for everyone who's loving on Leah as a character and as a match for Logan. He absolutely deserves happiness and I'm glad you're all liking her so much.**

 **Enjoy! -PC**

* * *

One by one, they slipped from the library, the others heading for staircases while Leah and Ororo crept down the first floor hallway towards the front door, listening carefully.

The sound of footsteps approaching. Low murmurs.

Leah reached for the nearest doorknob and eased it open, and the two women slipped into what turned out to be a dorm room. They crouched by the door, listening through a tiny crack, and Leah couldn't help but be grateful that Logan was downstairs. _I love him, but he'd still be slashing first and asking questions later._

The footsteps grew nearer, and Leah looked at Storm, lifting her voice barely above a whisper. "Can you heat up the hallway? Give me a little humidity too?"

"I believe so. Why?"

She smiled and flicked her wrist. "Viruses like it warm. And wet."

Moments later, they were hauling two feverish men into the dorm room, quickly disarming them and removing everything that looked even remotely like a communications device. The virus had been so effective that the men didn't even resist – they just huddled and shivered on the beds where they'd been thrown, looking thoroughly miserable.

Leah nudged the pile of equipment with her foot. "Mind telling us what you're doing here?"

One of them glared at her. "What did you do to us?"

"Relax. Nothing lasting. You've got a nasty flu." Leah smiled. "Oh, here you go, Storm." She tossed the other woman a capsule from her glove. "Antiviral. They're extremely contagious."

She turned back to the men. "You know, you guys got really lucky. You could've gotten someone _mean,_ but instead, you found us." She smiled cheerfully again. "Good for you, right? I've got more antiviral, so if you'll just tell us what you're here for, I'll be glad to share."

"Fuck off."

"Well, if you're going to be like that…Storm, what do you think? Tie 'em up?"

Storm nodded. "Yes, I think so. And hide them. Ensure their colleagues cannot locate them."

"You want to do that thing again that you did in Florida?"

"Oh, yes. Of course."

The men didn't have time to look more than nervous before Storm's hand waved and they lapsed into unconsciousness.

* * *

They found Kitty, Bobby, and Marie in the library, hauling two more bodies. Leah raised an eyebrow in surprise. "This seems way too easy. Did they not know what they were dealing with?"

Bobby shrugged. "We just snuck up behind them. I iced the floor and then Rogue did her thing when they fell down."

A giggle escaped Leah's lips. "Wish I'd been there to see it. Ours weren't feeling talkative – yours?" The other three shook their heads.

"Maybe Scott and Piotr will have better luck."

* * *

 _His long strides eat up the corridors of black glass, looking for the center of the maze where he suspects the real Jean is trapped._

 _There's a method to this madness._

 _He can't explain it, but the farther he feels from the center, the more superficial the memories are. Fleeting touches; smiles; small acts of affection._

 _He watches the memories on the walls, and as he suspected, they change. The intimacy is deeper, and it's not just sex._

 _He sees disagreements and making up afterwards._

 _He sees quiet work time - Leah's office. Logan coming in with beer bottles and a full glass of wine, and he sets the wine down next to her, Leah catching his hand and lightly squeezing it without looking up from her work._

 _He sees them having dinner with Leah's father, Logan relaxed and smiling despite the atmosphere of "meeting the parent"._

 _Abruptly, the corridor opens up again. Another room._

 _Darkness._

 _The sound of soft snoring._

 _The scene is that of a bedroom, what looks like Leah's. Logan is spooned up against her, both of them asleep, but it's obvious he's in distress – his face is twitching, his limbs beginning to move under the covers._

 _And then he roars. His claws come out as he flips over onto his back, sitting upright._

 _His_ claws.

 _Leah screams in pain and he comes fully awake. His claws have raked three long gashes across her stomach, in her side, and she's bleeding badly, frozen, looking down at the rapidly growing puddle._

 _Logan is staring at her, horrified. He hasn't even retracted his claws yet; they're still out, his right set stained with her blood._

 _Leah grunts a long string of curses through gritted teeth and Charles sees the wounds beginning to close. When she's finished, she lies there for a moment, catching her breath, heedless of the blood around her. Charles is surprised that no one else comes - Leah's scream had been loud, at least to him - but the walls of the mansion are thick._

 _Logan still hasn't said a thing. Mere seconds have passed._

 _Charles had thought he was fully aware of Leah's strength of character. But the steel in her becomes apparent in the next moments, as she rolls onto her back and looks at Logan._

" _Okay. I'm going to shower. Can you clean this up?"_

 _Her voice is entirely normal._

 _He stares at her as if she's gone insane. "Huh?"_

 _She points. "Clean sheets in the closet. Top shelf. I'd say soak up as much as you can – use this sheet, it's garbage anyway – and flip the mattress for tonight." She swings her legs out of bed and stands. "I'll be back in a few."_

 _She holds it together till she's in the shower. The memory follows her – it's her memory, after all – and she sinks down, kneeling on the floor in the hot water, gasping, touching her side and smearing the remnants of the blood as it washes away._

 _It takes her about five minutes to get it back together. She slowly stands and reaches for sponge and soap, and scrubs her skin down. She washes her hair, too – it's so long that there's blood in it, and she rinses it, over and over, until the water runs clear. Out of the shower, she briskly towels off, and then braids her wet hair, wrapping it around her head._

 _She pulls on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, both of which are far too big for her; Logan's clothes, pulled from a hamper. She stares at herself in the mirror for several moments._

 _And then she turns and walks back into the bedroom._

 _Logan has cleaned up the blood, flipped the mattress, and remade the bed. The stained bedding is sitting in a heap by the door; he's pulled on jeans and is pacing the front room, and he whirls as she opens the bathroom door._

 _Leah slowly walks over to the small fridge tucked in a corner. She silently pulls out a bottle, shakes it, and chugs it._

 _Logan stands motionless while she does this. When she's finished, she crosses to the couch and sits down, tucking her bare feet under her._

 _He hesitantly steps to her and sits on the other end of the couch, looking as nervous as Charles has ever seen him. Charles, for his part, is trying to figure out when this memory is from: he can't recall even picking up a hint of this from either of them._

" _You want me to go?"_

 _Logan finally speaks. Leah takes a breath and looks at him._

" _No."_

 _He lets out a sigh of relief and she hears it, and she turns her body more towards him. "Tell me?"_

 _He shakes his head. "Barely remember. Just…pain. Something hurting. Then I heard you. That's all I remember."_

 _She nods, slowly. "I get it."_

" _Leah…" He looks at her, face raw and vulnerable. "You know…you know a lot of it. What's happened to me. What I've done. I'd rather cut my own arm off than ever hurt you…but the nightmares. Can't control those. Can't promise it won't happen again."_

 _She closes her eyes for a moment, and then opens them. Her arms, crossed over her stomach, relax._

 _She extends a hand across the couch. Palm up._

 _It rests on the couch cushion for a dozen heartbeats before Logan slowly takes it._

" _Is it better?" she asks quietly. "With me?"_

 _He exhales and grips her hand so tightly that Charles can see his knuckles whiten. "You have no idea."_

 _She nods again. "All right. I can live with that. But you're buying the new mattress."_

 _He lets out a harsh bark of shock and stares at her. "You don't…you aren't…"_

" _Nope."_

 _She lets his hand go and slowly unpins her hair, unwrapping the braid and letting it fall down over her shoulder. She removes the elastic, combs it out loose, and then crawls across the couch to him. His hand reaches up to stroke the long damp locks, and his other arm gathers her to him, almost hesitantly, as if he can't believe she isn't screaming at him and throwing him out of her rooms._

 _They stay entwined on the couch for several minutes before Leah yawns from where her head is resting on his chest. "Can we go back to bed now?"_

" _Yeah." His hand clenches tight in her hair. Charles can't see his expression – his cheek is on the top of her head, face turned away - but his voice is suspiciously choked._

 _If it were any other man, Charles would say he was crying._

* * *

 _Charles feels the presence beside him. He does not turn, afraid that if he looks, Jean will vanish again._

" _I couldn't have done it."_

 _He rivets himself to the spot, fixing his eyes on the glass wall of the room. The memory has faded now, and the walls are empty._

" _Oh?"_

" _She just went back to sleep next to him like nothing happened."_

" _Ah."_

 _He suspects this is very close to the center of the maze. This memory that he has just seen – neither Logan nor Leah have ever breathed a hint of it; this has remained between the two of them. He is impressed that they managed to replace her mattress without him knowing, and is mildly curious as to how they did it._

 _He feels a touch on his sleeve and turns._

 _Jean looks at him, tears on her face. "It couldn't ever have been me, could it? Even if I'd tried?"_

 _Charles chooses his next words very carefully. "I think…if you could not have done what Leah did…then no, Jean."_

 _She sniffles and turns away again, staring at the empty room._

* * *

Hank adjusted another dial on the box in his hand. "I've almost got it…"

A piercing tone rang through the room – the most recent in a series of several - and Logan winced. "You think you can get it right before I go deaf, furball?"

"Keep your shirt on." Hank punched another series of buttons. "I believe that should do it."

The tracker had been in Jean's arm, buried deep, and Hank had been impressed – not even a tiny scar showed to reveal its location. Rather than risk trying to remove it – no telling what the pain might do, even perhaps causing her to wake – he'd elected to try and short it out, which had apparently succeeded.

Charles hadn't moved, and neither had Jean. Logan paced as Hank took a seat.

"I'm sure they're fine."

Logan ignored him, continuing to pace.

* * *

" _Jean. Can you help me? Can you join with me, drive out the Phoenix for good?"_

 _She seems not to hear him. "I've done awful things."_

 _Charles pauses; he can't exactly deny this. "I know," he says finally. "But it isn't too late. Help me, and we can help you."_

" _I can't." She shakes her head. "If you knew what I've done…I don't deserve your help. I don't deserve Scott, or you, or anyone."_

 _Charles pauses again. He really should ask Scott before he makes the offer he's about to – but Scott isn't here. And if he loses Jean now, he might never find her again._

" _Then we will make a deal. Help me remove the Phoenix and once it's done, I will take your memories of Logan away. It will be as if you meet him for the first time when you wake up – him and Leah both. Everything you took from her will be gone. You will not remember the last year at all. We will tell you that you were in an accident. Let that loss be your punishment, and let it end there."_

 _She pauses. "You'll take away all of it?"_

" _I think that would be best."_

" _And…we'll have to leave."_

 _He nods. "Yes. I believe if you remain at the school…well. Others know what you did. I do not believe it would be best for anyone, including you, for you to stay."_

" _Scott?"_

 _Charles smiles sadly. "Scott knows, and loves you still."_

 _Jean sniffles again, fresh tears coursing down her cheeks. "I don't deserve him."_

 _Charles agrees with her, given recent events, but stating this will likely not help him. "Regardless – he loves you. Perhaps this is the first step to deserving it?"_

 _Jean is silent for a long time. When she finally looks at him again, her eyes are dry._

" _Come with me. I know where she is."_


	36. Chapter 36

Leah leaned over the prone form that Piotr had dumped onto the library rug. "Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey…"

A giggle that sounded like it came from Marie was quickly stifled, as the man groaned and opened his eyes. Leah grinned cheerfully at him. "Hi there."

He sat up, rubbing his temples from where Piotr had hit him, and surveyed the group gathered around him, as well as the pile of unconscious bodies. "Fuck."

"Yep." Leah nodded, agreeing with him. "Pretty much. You look like you might be in charge?" His suit was slightly crisper, and there was something – she couldn't put a finger on it – just something more _important_ about him, which was why he was lying by himself and his companion had been tossed in with the rest.

He flopped back on the rug, hands to his head. "What did you do to me?"

"A guy made of organic steel whacked you in the head," she chirped. "Hey, Scott? Ororo? Technically I think you two should be asking the questions."

The man glared as she stepped back, making way for the two team leaders. "Ask if you want. I won't be telling you anything."

* * *

 _He follows Jean as she leads him, slowly, through the maze, paying little attention to the memories around him._

" _She made this for me," Jean murmurs. "Out of Leah's memories. To keep me out of the way…"_

 _Although he realizes Jean has brought this on herself, he cannot help but feel a touch of pity for the girl he has watched grow into a woman and come into the fullness of her power._

 _Contrary to what Charles had thought, Jean is leading him farther away from the center of the maze, which he understands now: this maze is a prison, and the escape will be at the edge._

 _Jean stops, her attention caught by one of the memories. Charles opens his mouth, to nudge her along, but stops, his own focus caught as well._

* * *

 _Logan is driving the Lexus, Leah in the passenger seat munching on celery and carrot sticks with her tablet on her lap, flicking her fingers quickly to scroll the screen._

" _Desiree Fox," she reads. "Age fourteen. Mutation…hmmm. Says that she can heat up her skin and melt…basically, anything. No evidence of combustion, though, she doesn't actually burn. This could be interesting."_

 _Logan grunts noncommittally. "What's the other one?"_

 _Leah taps the screen again. "Robbie Fox. Desiree's twin, born five minutes later. Mutation…" Her voice trails off, to the point where Logan looks at her strangely._

" _Mutation what?"_

" _It just says "Energy". That's it." She pokes at the screen, trying to open up windows or links into the database, to no avail. "I can't believe Charles didn't know any more. Or if he did know, he didn't tell us. Either way, it's weird."_

 _Logan shrugs. "Probably why he sent both of us." His right hand leaves the steering wheel and settles on Leah's leg, and she smiles, turning her body more towards him._

 _The miles pass, and shortly Logan pulls the Lexus up to a nondescript suburban house, like dozens Charles has seen through the years. He recalls this now: he was needed for another recruiting excursion, and given the twins, had elected to send Logan and Leah together._

 _In retrospect, it had been a fortunate confluence of events._

 _It's winter, late February, everything grey and dirty, but the snow has begun to melt and brown grass is peeking through the patches of white. When he recruits, Charles enjoys showing off his dignity, and is usually on full British display in suit and tie. Logan, of course, will do nothing of the sort, and Leah has elected to join him in sporting the national uniform of Canada: both professors are in flannel shirts, jeans, and boots._

 _Logan crisply knocks on the front door, which is quickly opened by a nervous-looking woman._

" _Are you from the school?"_

 _Logan steps back as Leah nods and moves forward, smiling. Emotional reassurance is what's needed here, they both can see this in a heartbeat, and he is the wrong one to provide that to a stranger. She extends a hand._

" _Yes. I'm Doctor Hamilton, professor of biology and horticulture. This is Professor Logan, he teaches history."_

 _The woman looks at Logan incredulously. "History?"_

" _Yeah." His hands are braced on his hips, and his furrowed brow dares her to comment. She doesn't, gulping and taking Leah's hand._

" _Veronica Fox. Thank you for coming so quickly. Come in."_

 _An equally nervous-looking man is in the living room, perched on the edge of a recliner. Leah's eyes are glued to the dead plants littering the room; she slows, her instincts clearly driving her to try and save the poor things if possible. Logan's hand brushes the small of her back, urging her onward; she takes the seat Veronica offers, on the couch, and he sits beside her – close, as he always is, his thigh pressing against hers._

 _Veronica sets two glasses of water on the coffee table. She takes the last empty chair in the room._

" _Tell us about your children," Leah invites the couple, after an awkward silence._

" _Will you…you'll take them, right?" The man's outburst is choked; he is obviously at the end of his tolerance._

 _Leah and Logan exchange a look._

" _We can't promise that," Leah finally says. "We'd like to know more about them and understand what we're dealing with. The information we have…particularly in Robbie's case…is limited."_

 _The man's eyes narrow. "You don't look like mutants. What do_ you _two do, then?"_

 _The two professors exchange another look. Leah nods and stands, walking over to one of the large, dead plants; a tall potted fern. She shoves her hand into the dirt and the man begins to rise, his mouth opening. Logan fixes him to his chair with a glare._

 _Charles likes sending Leah to recruit. Her power seems so innocuous, particularly when she grows flowers for younger students, her favorite parlor trick. She is well-liked by the students she brings in; another thing Jean has to feel jealousy over._

 _Seconds later, the fern is in full leaf again, lush and healthy. Leah smiles, pulling her hand free and returning to her seat. "As I mentioned, I teach biology and horticulture."_

 _The man is taken aback, but turns his hostile glare on Logan. "What about you?"_

 _Before he can answer, Veronica blurts out, "Can you fix all of them?"_

 _She obviously means all of the dead plants, and Leah smiles. "I'd be happy to."_

 _This display has apparently opened a dam, and the woman begins to speak, her words choppy._

" _It started on little things at first. The plants. We didn't notice…just thought it was some kind of disease, or some chemical in the house…and then we found more. Dead mice. Bugs. We were grateful…"_

 _Speaking of gratitude, the man has apparently forgotten his pursuit of what Logan's mutation is. "Natural pest control." He shrugs. "Didn't look a gift horse in the mouth, at that point."_

" _But then…"_

 _Both of them stare at the floor. Finally the man speaks again._

" _Started finding animals. Bigger ones. Dead. In the yard. Looked fine, just dead."_

 _The couple seems as though they are expecting more of a reaction than they get from Leah and Logan, who merely watch and wait._

" _Every time…Robbie'd been sick for awhile. Every time we found something…he got better." Veronica looks at the man. "Paul noticed it first. Bigger animals...meant better Robbie."_

 _The man – Paul – sighs heavily. "Caught him finally, with a squirrel. He…it went right to him, like it couldn't stop itself. Then all of a sudden, it just dropped. And he looked better."_

 _Leah is nodding, slowly. "I see."_

" _And the other one?" This from Logan, who finally speaks, and it startles the couple._

" _Desiree…" Veronica trails off, finds her voice, starts again. "It's not so bad, unless she gets angry."_

 _Leah nods again. "We knew a little more about her." She exchanges yet another look with Logan. "Neither of them sound like anything we can't cope with. Could we talk to them?"_

 _Before either of the couple can answer, a teenage girl appears in the doorway._

 _The girl is the poster child for teenage rebellion: hair dyed black, slouchy black pants and a tiny black tank top and heavy black boots. She is wearing both too much makeup and too much jewelry._

 _Leah unsuccessfully stifles a laugh and the girl glares at her. "What?"_

" _Desiree," Veronica interjects, "these are professors from the school that we told you about."_

" _Great." The girl rolls her eyes and pops a piece of gum, and Charles can tell that Leah is trying not to laugh again. "More freaks? Awesome."_

 _Leah stands up and, for the second time, extends a hand and introduces herself. "Doctor Hamilton. Are you interested in gardening? I teach biology at the school."_

 _The girl ignores the hand and looks at Logan. "What does he teach? Gym?"_

 _If there's one thing Logan can do, it's glaring someone into submission without saying a word. This girl is no exception._

 _Leah grins as the silence extends. "Professor Logan teaches history."_

" _Whatever."_

 _She turns and begins to walk away, and her father calls out. "We've already decided. You're going, and that's final."_

 _Leah's head whips around and she opens her mouth to rebut this assertion, but Desiree responds first._

" _Make me."_

 _Logan's nostrils flare, and he stands, shoving Leah behind him protectively. The air shimmers around Desiree, and the carpet around her feet smokes. For the first time, Charles – as he watches the memory – sees other singed spots._

 _Desiree raises her hands. "Have fun making me go anywhere."_

 _Logan slowly advances on the girl, keeping Leah behind him. Leah is still talking, ignoring the girl's frozen parents._

" _Desiree. We can help you. We can help you get control of this. That's what we do, at the school: we help you learn to focus your powers." She motions. "You come with us, eventually, you won't have to worry about burning carpet. But it's your decision."_

 _Her voice is calm, but if anything, she's making Desiree angrier. Charles sees sweat on both teachers' foreheads._

 _Desiree curls her lip._

 _Logan's gotten close to her and glares at her again. "Cut this bullshit."_

 _She reaches out and shoves his arm._

 _Logan roars in pain._

 _Her hand has melted straight through the skin and muscle of his forearm, where her palm had landed. She pulls it back and it's coated with his blood, already sizzling and burning off. Her fingers have left grooves in his arm, more blood dripping to the carpet._

 _Desiree is frozen, staring at Logan's arm. "What the fuck is that?"_

 _The glint of metal can be seen through the blood. Even as they watch, the metal disappears, Logan's healing factor taking over. In seconds, the grooves are gone, his arm restored, the blood on his shirt the only evidence of the injury._

 _Nothing can melt hardened adamantium._

 _Leah collects herself and says, in a remarkably even tone, "All of us have different gifts, Desiree. As I said, we can help you learn to control yours."_

 _The girl is still staring at Logan's arm. Leah turns to the parents. "I think we'd like to talk to Robbie now."_

* * *

 _They are both noticeably startled by the other teenager._

 _Robbie lies in bed. Most of the memories Charles has seen have not had smell in them, but this one does – a sickly, sour odor, and he sees Logan's nose wrinkle, a faint grimace crossing his face. Leah takes a step back._

 _The child is frail, small, no larger than an average eight-year-old. His skin is yellow, stretched tight over his bones. His eyes glitter, sunken deep in sharply-outlined sockets – open for a brief moment as they enter, and then closing again._

 _Charles doesn't think anyone else notices; Leah moves her leg to hide her hand as she briefly grasps Logan's fingers. They squeeze quickly before separating again._

" _He doesn't talk." Paul, the father, has accompanied them to his son's room, and won't meet either of their eyes. "Not much, anyway. He'll only talk after…after we find something."_

" _Does he hear you? Understand, respond to you?"_

 _The man nods. "Most times."_

" _How long has he been like this?"_

" _A year or so. He just started…fading."_

 _Leah and Logan look at each other. Leah drops her voice. "I should at least try."_

" _Too dangerous." He grips her upper arms, heedless of the other man in the room._

 _She reaches up and covers one of his hands with hers. "You'll be right there. You can stop it if anything goes wrong."_

 _Leah turns to the boy's father. "I might be able to help, at least so that we can talk to him. May I?"_

 _The man nods, and Leah kneels by the bed, Logan close behind her. She lays a hand on the boy's arm and closes her eyes._

 _About two minutes pass in silence._

 _The boy's eyes open._

 _His skin is changing color, starting to flush with health, the sick-sour smell fading._

 _And he is grinning manically._

 _Logan's head whips to Leah and he grabs her shoulders. Her skin is also changing, but it's draining of color, and her cheekbones protrude in her face. He yanks backward, but the boy has grabbed onto her hand, and isn't letting go. He can't pull her back, at least not without injuring her._

" _What's happening?" The father is frightened. Logan spares him a glance as he weighs his options._

" _He's draining her energy. Just like all the other stuff before."_

 _Given the choice between breaking his lover's bones, and damaging this unknown stranger, it's obviously not a choice at all, healing factor or not. He unsheathes his claws and in one swift motion stabs downward, into the boy's arm. Blood sprays, the boy shrieks – and lets go of Leah, who falls backward onto the floor._

 _The boy's eyes have fixed on Logan, whose claws are still stuck in his arm, and he actually grabs onto the man's other arm. Logan stiffens and his eyes roll back in his head, and he growls._

 _And then Leah shoves his pant leg up and clamps her hand on his leg. Logan unfreezes and yanks his arm free, and in the next instant, swipes his claws across the boy's throat._

 _He looks down at Leah, bending and helping her stand. The father of the boy is staring at the two of them, horrified._

 _It takes about half an hour for them to explain and convince the parents not to have them arrested. Leah describes the boy as an energy vampire, needing to drain the life energy of others in order to live. She had attempted to heal him, at least enough to be able to communicate, but he had quickly realized what was before him, her own energy able to replenish itself through her healing factor, and had fallen like a starving man on a banquet._

 _And then he had found the same from Logan, beginning to drain him as well before Leah had intervened and bought enough time._

 _The parents are numb, but have seen enough to make them believe. That they aren't more upset proves they understand what their son had become._

 _Desiree has left the house at some point during all the commotion. Leah leaves her card with the parents, and an invitation to contact her once they've had a chance to process everything._

 _She and Logan are covered in blood. Timidly, the mother offers Leah a spare T-shirt, which will be enough for her to go inside somewhere and get clothes for both of them. In return, Leah keeps her promise, and before they go, every single houseplant is flourishing with new growth._

 _In the car they sit for a moment, and finally Leah says, "You didn't have to kill him…you could have pulled him off of me…"_

" _Didn't have a whole lot of time to decide," Logan mutters. His hands are clenched on the steering wheel._

" _But Logan…"_

 _His head lifts and he stares at her. "If you're going to ask me to ever hold back when it's picking between you or someone else, don't bother."_

" _I…"_

" _No." He grabs her hand and yanks her towards him and clamps his hands on her cheeks. "That's it, Leah, plain and simple. I ain't ever going to pick someone else over you, 'specially not some asshole kid vampire. You come first for me and sometimes that might mean killing. Better decide now if you're okay with that."_

 _She swallows, and nods, and he kisses her hard, his fingers digging into her face._

* * *

 _Charles remembers their return from this trip, as the memory fades. The parents had never contacted them; Desiree had never come to the school, but there had also never been any trouble over what had happened with the son. He is grateful for that, despite mourning the loss of the girl, whom he had hoped to help._

 _Jean is shaking her head, her face teary again with facing the continued evidence that Logan has absolutely, entirely moved on, and that it's Leah who has his heart now._

" _Jean?"_

 _She nods. "I know. Let's go."_

 _He had thought they were lost, the memory they have just watched so very personal that he had thought they'd moved back towards the center of the maze. But it's a surprisingly short walk before they come up against a dead end: a sheer wall of black glass._

 _Charles raps on it experimentally. "How do we get through it?"_

" _You should be able to. This isn't your prison, it's mine. I think you can pull me through along with you and we can both get out."_

 _Charles presses on the glass. "It seems solid enough."_

" _That's because I'm here. I'll have to leave and then come back as you're going through. Stop halfway through and wait for me."_

 _She fades with no further instructions._

 _Charles sighs, and touches the glass again. It ripples._

 _He slides his body up perpendicular to the wall, and begins easing through. It's like moving through very cold water: it's thick, and resisting, pressing on his body, uncomfortably tingling. He stops when the wall is at the midpoint of his chest, and waits._

 _Jean reappears right next to him and grabs his hand. "Go!"_

 _The glass instantly begins to solidify. Charles moves as fast as he can, dragging Jean, and it's enough; he gets both of them through._

 _They stand in darkness._

 _A point of light blooms in the distance, and slowly grows._

 _Jean's likeness, the Phoenix, walks towards them, her steps careful and measured. She is in no hurry._

 _She stops just in front of Charles and Jean, the light emanating from her bringing life to their surroundings. They are in another room of black glass, this one built like an old Gothic hall, with tall archways and ceilings. Light begins to grow inside the glass, until everything can be comfortably seen._

 _She looks at each of them in turn; first Charles, then Jean._

" _So much trouble."_


	37. Chapter 37

**Author's Note: Hello lovelies! Apologies for the delay in the regular update…this is an insane busy time of year for me and this chapter also revealed itself very slowly…I kept pushing for more action and it just wasn't ready to be there yet! But we're nicely teed up for the "boss fight" to happen next chapter!**

 **I may miss next week as well as I'm at a conference, but if you don't see a new chapter go up, check out 14 and 15 - they both need some edits and I should be able to at least get those done for you as a mini-update. :) I also will do my best to catch up on title playlisting, as I'm sorely behind.**

 **Love to all of you! -PC**

* * *

He wound up talking, after Kitty and Piotr walked through the library wall and returned a few moments later with the last member of the team, the man previously stationed at the helicopter.

It also helped that Storm was willing to lower the temperature in the library to extremely uncomfortable levels…just around him.

"Jean Grey is under contract, assigned specifically to target mutants that possess desirable skills and bring them in to government employment. Involuntarily, if necessary. We were assigned to come in and recover her."

Ororo's mouth tightened into a thin line, and she exchanged a look with Leah, whose face had drained of color. "And were you to recover anyone else?"

"No. Just Ms. Grey. We were to leave any of…the rest of you…to her."

* * *

 _Jean's hands tighten into fists as the Phoenix looks at them. Charles feels a touch of worry at the calm expression on the entity's face, seemingly untroubled by Jean's escape._

 _She even looks_ amused.

" _Did you not enjoy your prison?" she mocks._

 _Jean glares at the Phoenix. "If you're supposed to be me, I don't understand why you're being so cruel."_

" _Cruel?" The Phoenix smiles. "That wasn't cruelty. I actually hoped you'd find your way out and realize that your only way forward is to join with me." She raises a bright hand towards Jean's face. "I miss you, you know. We are so much better when we work together. Why fight?"_

 _Jean is silent, and Charles sees her tremble, torn. He intervenes._

" _If you truly are part of Jean, you'd realize that this is cruel to her. You would stop."_

 _The Phoenix turns to him and evaluates him. It's been a long time since he's felt so insignificant, and Charles doesn't like it._

" _Oh, Charles. I can be much crueler to her than I have been. So many memories to play with. You think you've seen the worst?"_

 _The Phoenix waves a hand and a new memory starts, appearing next to them in the room of black glass._

 _By this point, Charles has seen enough to recognize the setting as Leah's bedroom, the sound of rain permeating the scene. Out the window he can see snow on the trees; with the weather, it must be early March._

 _Logan and Leah are awake, cuddled together in bed. The smile on Leah's face and the relaxed expression on Logan's tells Charles that they've been awake for a while and that things are, hopefully, done being embarrassing for the time being._

 _She strokes her hand through his hair and he smiles, shifting to pull her even closer under the covers. "Feeling good?"_

" _Mmm." She leans in for a kiss. "You know I am."_

 _He chuckles. "You ready to get up? Bet there's coffee in the kitchen…" She makes a noise of protest as he moves, and he relaxes back. "Okay. Maybe not just yet."_

 _They lie together contentedly for another few moments, her head resting on his chest, although Logan looks slightly pensive. The expression gradually resolves into having made a decision, and he rises again, this time leaning over Leah – who makes another noise of protest at being squashed into the mattress – and reaching for his jeans, which are on the floor next to the bed. He pulls them up and starts fishing in the pockets._

 _Leah looks at him curiously. "What are you doing?"_

 _He ignores her, pulling out a simple silver chain from one of the pockets and then letting the jeans fall back onto the floor. Leah is still looking at him as he picks up his dog tags from the bedside table._

 _Charles guesses what's coming, mostly because he's seen the result around Leah's neck. Logan unfastens the chains and separates the tags, placing one on the new chain he's just pulled out._

 _He holds up the chain, still without a word. Leah eyes the dangling tag and slowly nods. He slips it over her head, gathering her hair up and pulling it free of the chain, and watches the tag fall, landing between her breasts. He runs a fingertip down the chain and finally speaks. "Looks good." His voice hitches a little, and before Leah can say anything in reply, Logan pulls her back to him and covers her mouth with his, rolling over onto his back with her in his arms._

 _The Phoenix wears a self-satisfied smirk as the scene fades…but the smirk, in turn, fades._

 _Jean's head is up, and this time her eyes are blazing. Charles stops breathing._

" _Stop it."_

 _The Phoenix laughs. "It's a little late for that, don't you think? Here I am. You can't lie to me…part of you does still hate her and want her gone, and that part will do whatever it takes. That part's me."_

 _Jean takes another breath. "You're right." The Phoenix smiles, but it's short-lived, as Jean continues. "But I have a choice about what I do with how I feel. And I choose…not you."_

 _The Phoenix's eyes narrow and she waves a hand again. Another memory starts._

* * *

Leah shook her head as Ororo efficiently rendered the last of the men unconscious. "I still can't believe it. I don't think I've ever had anyone hate me this much. To sell out the rest of you…fucking hell."

"What should we do with them?"

Ororo's mouth tightened in response to Leah's question. "Charles may be able to deal with them. Remove their memories of being here. I think we may have bigger problems, but that is at least a start."

Scott had stepped over to the window and was looking out pensively. He was the last person Leah wanted to talk to at the moment, but she felt she had to, and she stepped over to him and lowered her voice as the rest of the group collected back together.

"Scott…Christ, Scott. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

Scott wouldn't look at her, but his tone was gentle. "No, it's not."

"I kind of think it is…"

He sighed. "If you hadn't come along, things would have just stayed the same. Or it would have been someone else. Either way…it wouldn't have been any better."

She knew he was right, but that didn't make it any easier. "Do you want to go see how they're doing down there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." A ghost of a smile flitted over his face. "If you aren't going to make me sick again, that is."

She chuckled. "Deal. Let's go."

* * *

 _Leah is walking in from the back of the mansion, through the staff kitchen side door. Her arms are covered in dirt up to the elbows – she must be coming from the greenhouses, or the garden - and she's clearly heading for the kitchen cleaning closet and its deep sink to get washed off._

 _Jean is standing at the refrigerator and her lip curls at the sight of the other woman. Leah obviously stifles a sigh and keeps walking, but stops at the sound of Jean's voice._

" _I guess Logan is starting to rub off on you, Leah. Maybe next time you could wash your hands_ before _you come inside?"_

 _Leah slowly turns and lets Jean see her eyes roll. "Yeah. I'm so not doing this right now." She turns away again. What she's not seeing, and what Charles_ does _see, is the orange burn in Jean's eyes._

 _The Phoenix is in control in this memory._

 _He looks at the Jean beside him and her expression is confused. "I don't remember this…"_

 _The women in the memory have exchanged another barb, judging by their expressions, but Charles has missed it. Whatever Jean has said has made an impact: Leah's hands are clenched into fists and she's looking angry._

"… _and really, you're getting close to about how long he lasts with any woman. So you might want to think about a backup. Unless you want to come to the wedding solo?" With a smile, Jean turns and walks away._

 _Charles fills in the missing pieces: Jean had been needling Leah about Logan's past, and his prior tendency to fall in and out of relationships quickly. Judging by Leah's expression, it's not the first time she's heard this kind of petty cruelty, but that doesn't mean it isn't affecting her._

 _Leah takes a deep breath and braces her hands on the low island, ignoring the dirt still covering her arms. One hand reaches up, and her fingers find the dog tag that's around her neck. Her head drops and she stays like that for several heartbeats; when her head lifts, the expression on her face is fierce, and she looks at her watch, then strides off._

 _The memory follows her up the stairs to her rooms, and the door's barely closed behind her before she's stripping and diving into the shower. She's kept her hair dry, and when she comes out of the shower, she quickly ties it into a partial braid, leaving a long loose tail down her back. Her movements scream determination and focus – and barely-checked anger – as she quickly applies a touch of makeup, and then returns to the bedroom, rooting through her closet and tossing a black and green dress on the bed._

 _She's obviously picked it with a purpose: the dress is a sheath cut and accentuates her hourglass shape. She wriggles in, zips up, and pulls on stockings and black heels._

 _She's done this in less than ten minutes, and checks her watch again. She strides for the door._

 _The halls of the mansion are empty enough that Charles assumes classes are still in session; Leah doesn't run into anyone as she walks, and that's probably a good thing. She heads down to the first floor and walks down the hall, a few doors down from her own classroom, and leans against the open door of Logan's._

 _He stops mid-sentence in his discussion, from where he's leaning against the desk at the front of the room, and stares at her for a second. "Leah?"_

" _Professor Logan." She inclines her head. "I apologize for interrupting. Could I see you in your office please?"_

" _I…uh…" He swallows, still staring at her. "Yeah. Uh…" He looks at his watch. "That'll be it for today. Finish reading the chapter for tomorrow. Class dismissed."_

 _He pushes through the students and comes to Leah's side. "Everything okay?"_

 _She smiles and meets his eyes, and then turns. He follows._

 _Logan's office is on the second floor and is sparse; desk, chairs, bookshelves, an armchair shoved into a corner almost as an afterthought. He shuts the door and Leah pounces on him: she pushes him up against it and is kissing him, and he makes a sound of surprise before he gathers her in his arms and returns the kiss._

 _She's letting her anger out in the form of passion, and Logan clearly is not minding: he spins her away from the door and up against one of the bookshelves, the furniture rocking dangerously and knocking a stack of papers to the floor before she pushes back and they fall onto the armchair, grappling until he's more or less sitting and Leah's kneeling astride his lap. At some point she's kicked off her shoes, as one's somehow on his desk._

 _Logan tears his mouth away but his hands are still moving over her. "What happened?"_

" _Nothing." Leah's voice rasps as she catches her breath for a moment. "I was just…thinking about you."_

" _Goddamn." He looks down, then up, hands smoothing along her waist and down her hips, splaying out over her curves. Charles makes what must be his hundredth mental note to figure out how he can forget what he's seen out of respect for the two of them. "Why the fuck haven't you worn this before?"_

 _She doesn't really get the chance to answer as he kisses her again, one hand working on her braid and untying it to free her hair. Charles expects the Phoenix to stop the memory, but she's still watching, a faint smile on her face. There's more she wants Jean to see._

 _Or hear, as it turns out._

 _Thankfully, things haven't gone too far before it becomes apparent. Logan's face is buried in Leah's neck, and her head's tipped back as he growls, "Fucking hell, Leah…" His hands rake down her back, fumbling for her dress zipper, as he kisses her neck between words. "You are…brilliant, and gorgeous, I love you so much it fucking hurts, I can't fucking believe you're mine…"_

 _She smiles, and this was clearly the point of what she's done: affirming that she and Logan belong together and that's not changing anytime soon, and they're the ones whose opinions count. "I am. Absolutely."_

* * *

 _The memory fades and the Phoenix steps up to Jean with a mocking smile. "Did you want more? I could have let it keep going. You'd get to see him bend her over that desk."_

 _Jean glares at the Phoenix, who merely lifts an eyebrow. She takes a deep breath. "I don't want this. I don't want you."_

 _She grabs Charles' hand. As they link, he feels her power simmering, and takes hold, merging his strength with hers._

 _The Phoenix frowns, raising a hand, but Jean pushes and freezes her other self before more memories can start._

" _That's not going to work anymore," she informs herself._

 _And she shoves._

 _The Phoenix skids back over the glass floor and crashes into the wall. Jean holds her there like a bright butterfly, pinned to a collector's tray._

" _I won't join with you. But I'll make you join with me."_


End file.
